Nothing But a Man
by fanfantome
Summary: What if Erik did not murder Buquet? What if he did not lose Christine's trust so early in their relationship? How would the events have played out? This story takes place just before the demise of Buquet and is a what if based on the 2004 film.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! So, potentially starting a new story. This one is first person... for the moment. Let me know what you think about that and if it works. I haven't written in first person in some time and i haven't uploaded _any _in first person at all.

This is just a short one to see what people think. If it goes down well, i will continue it. Its just an idea I've been playing with for a while and thought id finally publish it. I guess I saw the demise of Buquet as somewhat of a turning point in the story (the movie at least). To me, its when The Phantom completely ruins things for himself because up until then, Christine was kind of like "Ohh... maybe..." And then he killed Buquet and she was like "SO MUCH NOPE." So this is a story that explores that.

So, yes. Please let me know whether i should continue this. :)

Phanty belongs to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Weber

* * *

I had seen Buquet; had seen that he had been following me. He had been running from me; using the rigging above the stage to evade me. It would be only moments before I caught him... I saw him run clumsily onto one of the small bridges in front of me and disappear into the darkness.

I was about to pursue him when I heard a noise behind me and spun around to see _her _standing before me; my angel clad in the costume she _should_ have been wearing from the very start; that of the 'Countess'. I had poisoned Carlotta, yes. Nothing serious of course, just a little potion of my own creation that would render her unable to sing... would render her... replaceable. I did this so as to give Christine the chance she so desired, never in a million years had I expected this encounter to come from such an action.

"Angel?" She asked, almost a statement.

"Chris... Christine." I cursed myself for my unusually clumsy speech; I wasn't expecting to see her at all. I realized how I must have looked; a complete clod standing there with my mouth agape... I was utterly beside myself with both elation and surprise. "You... Ahem." I cleared my throat and straightened my jacket, in the hopes of seeming more appealing to the woman before me. Perhaps I believed that straightening my clothing would miraculously straighten my thoughts... I was wrong, for when I spoke the second time I was just as nervous. "You should be on the stage."

Christine took a step forward. "I heard you speaking before... That _was _you, was it not? ...I wanted to see you." She replied, casting her eyes down on the last few words as if they were taboo.

_She wanted to see me?_

I allowed myself a smile before the recognition of my selfishness hit me. Smiling was proclaiming that I would rather her be _above_ the stage with me than be _on_ it, being the star I trained her to be... But god, how I wanted her to stay with me. There was so much I wanted to say to her. _So_ much I wanted to explain, I wanted to tell her all about myself when there wasn't a person alive who knew more than two facts about my life. I wanted her to know it all; my pleasures, my fears... my memories. And I yearned to know hers.

_She wanted to see me._

"I... Christine you _really_ should be on the stage. Your audience awaits you." I had to derail this train of thought; it would only serve to wound me. I took a step back.

"It _was_ you." She said. "You... are the Phantom?" She stared at me then, eyes wide, mouth agape. At that moment I wanted to be anywhere else except under her scrutinizing gaze. She made me feel like a child again; no power, no control. She had well and truly captured me with that gaze of hers and she wasn't the slightest bit aware. She had complete power over me.

I took another small step backward and held onto the wooden railing for support. Of course, my balance had always been perfect... undoubtedly I was holding the railing for other reasons.

"Christine... I did not want you to find out like this." We were directly above the stage now, below us the Opera was continuing. I could hear the soft notes of the ballet music from Act 3 soaring up into the rafters; music I had often heard while watching her... I wondered how often she had come up here or if she knew how often I did simply to watch... To gaze down on her in awe and wonderment at what I could never have.

"It's... alright. I think... Just unexpected. You are... just a man...?"

"Yes." All I could offer her was one word. Just being around her again was intoxicating, and this time there were no illusions between us; no barriers at all. Truthfully I did not know what else to say. In a way I had revealed myself as a man the night before but it had all been shrouded in mystery; the way I liked it to be. I had not planned on revealing myself _completely_ for some time and I certainly had no plans of revealing myself as The Phantom...

"I want to... explain myself." There was so much I needed to say to her before she ran away which she undoubtedly would... I wanted her to know that I was sorry for lying to her all this time and that I was sorry for how I had treated her in my home. I _really _wanted to tell her that it was good to see her, but It felt so strange talking to her as a person. No doubt she felt the same way... probably more so. Prior to last night Christine and I had spoken through the mirror but our conversation never really stretched further than that of our lessons.

"Yes." She replied pensively. "I would like to... apologize for last night." At these words I felt as though I was shrinking before her. Of course she had been referring to my face... removing my mask. An offence, yes but certainly not one warranting such behavior on my part. She had to know that... I needed to tell her.

"Christine... it is I who should be apologizing. My behavior was ghastly." I looked down, truly ashamed of my actions. "You really _should _be down there. The ballet has almost finished. La Carlotta is not... indisposed for nothing, after all."

"That was you?" She gasped.

"Of course." I said with a smug smile upon my face. There was no point in hiding anything... She would come to realize that I was responsible for a great deal more... She looked at me; I was expecting something closer to fear or disgust but again she stared at me in awe.

"Christine, you must make haste. You must be on that stage." I said sternly, momentarily channeling my role as her teacher and regaining some of my composure which used to be second nature... At that moment Christine seemed to recall where she was and where she was meant to be. I _had_ meant to aid her in her journey to success... not distract her.

"Yes! The opera..." She turned to leave. Just as I exhaled; a sigh both of relief at being released from her gaze and disappointment at seeing her leave, she turned around and spoke. "Angel, can we meet? After the show? I... would like to talk with you... as a person."

At those words I felt as though my knees would fail me and I was never more thankful for that wooden railing than at that moment. I could not believe that she would willingly ask to see me... Of course, It _was _the ideal scenario and I had pictured the moment in my head more times than I could count but even so, I was not quite prepared for such a moment. I do not think that anything could have prepared me. I wanted to shout, I wanted to cry, I wanted to hold her... I wanted to express myself but I could not. I could not let my emotion ruin this perfect moment in time. I took another deep breath before I spoke. This woman _would_ not get the better of me.

"If that is what you wish." I said calmly.

"It is." She smiled.

"Go." I said, attempting to contain my overwhelming sense of euphoria at the prospect of spending time with Christine.

_Go and play the role that you deserve._

Buquet could wait... his time would come. I had other matters to focus on but i found that i could not focus at all...

When she left I turned around in somewhat of a daze to face the stage again. I felt as though the music from below had captured me just as she had. I felt as though i wasn't there; i felt as though the music and I were one. It was embracing me, enveloping me in its splendor just like the night. It was soaring up through the rafters and into the heavens, taking me with it. Taking me to heaven when i was convinced i belonged only in hell.

The auditorium had never looked so beautiful and i found that for the first time in what could quite possibly have been years, i was smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, friends. Thanks to the reviews, follows and favorites i have decided to continue with the story. So yay! Hope you guys enjoy the second chapter. I tried to keep the story cohesive and everybody in character. I really want this to be a believable 'what if' so, do let me know what you think of this one too!

Thanks :)

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

* * *

Christine's POV

I turned and rushed away from the man I was speaking to... this man... he _was _a man. I wanted to hide myself away and think on what I had just discovered; what had just happened. I wanted to replay the scenario over and over in my mind until It made sense... until I could grasp the magnitude of who I had just been speaking to. Last night felt like something out of a dream, part of me had wondered whether it _had _been a dream... after all, no one knew of it except me. But it cant have been... I know that now. When I had heard his voice booming down at everyone in the auditorium, part of me recognized it as his; as my Angel's... but I knew that it was The Phantom. Still, I just couldn't put the pieces together. After I had been announced as Carlotta's replacement I had to see for myself... I had to venture up into the rafters; up into his domain. If it _was _indeed only the Phantom, it would be dangerous for me... but if it were my Angel, I knew that I could not be safer. He would _never _hurt me.

Then, I saw him; the man from my dream last night and all the dreams prior. It hadn't been a dream. There he was, standing there looking as normal as any other. It was not until he spoke that I was completely convinced. That voice... velvety smooth yet strong and deep... and commanding, even in that apprehensive state. I would know that voice anywhere. Why had I doubted myself before? This was the voice that had spoken to me almost every night, the voice that had taught me everything, the voice that had been there for me when no one else was. This was the man from last night... which surely had not been a dream. This was also the Phantom. I didn't know how to feel about any of it. Had he always been a man? Why did he not just speak to me? Tell me? Why did he need to keep himself shrouded in mystery if he was just a person? Then my eyes caught sight of his mask; a magnificent white glow exuding from one side of his face. For a moment he did his best to hide it, only showing to me one side of himself. When I caught sight of it I was reminded of something... I had taken his mask from him... or had I? What if it _was _a dream and I was simply dreaming about _him? _A premonition, perhaps? Why could I not remember clearly?

Each time I stepped forward he stepped backward, as if trying to uphold the barrier he had created between us. But I did not want that barrier and I didn't see why there needed to be one. There didn't. Not anymore. I needed to talk to him, _wanted _to. There were so many questions I needed answers to but I did not have the time. Before I knew what I was doing, I had asked to see him. Raoul would probably want to see me after the show but he would have to wait. I needed to know more about this man; the man who had been my guiding light these many years at the Opera.

As I rushed back down the stairs I couldn't get my Angel... The Phantom... out of my mind. The Phantom was frightening... wasn't he? People feared him? But there was something strangely alluring about him and the more I thought about him the more I was able to remember about the night before. The way he stood; power seemed to exude from his every movement, his voice; his music seemed to engulf me completely; deep and soothing, enveloping me in wave after wave of perfect melody. Was this the same man I had seen standing awkwardly before me just now?

Madame Giry met me at the bottom of the spiral staircase.

"Where have you been child?" She demanded.

I was speechless. What could I tell her? That I was just speaking to The Phantom, The Opera Ghost? That I was just having a casual conversation with my Angel of Music above the stage?

"I... I was just..." I stammered, believing that if I did not at least attempt an answer she would grow even angrier with me. As if reading my mind she peered up into the rafters above us.

"It... is not safe above the stage, my dear." She said, her voice softening. I couldn't tell whether she was referring to the height or something else... The way she had looked above made me uncomfortable. She looked as if she were searching for something in particular. Could she have known...? Everyone knew of the legend of The Opera Ghost and everyone had heard that booming voice which echoed throughout the theater not moments ago; threatening the management and making demands. Everyone in the theater was now aware of his presence but it seemed that perhaps Madame Giry knew more...

I wanted to tell her what had happened, I wanted to tell someone but decided against it. It seemed like something that should be kept a secret...

_He_ would want that.

"You must hurry, Christine. It is almost time." She said purposefully, adjusting my dress.

We hurried towards the stage where I was hastily sent on to play my part; The Countess. Truly, I was sorry for what had happened to Carlotta but this really was a dream role and I _had _worked hard for it. The performance was particularly hard to get through because I knew he was watching. I knew that he had _always _been watching but tonight I had _seen_ him above the stage. I did my best to search the auditorium for a glimpse of what could be my Angel but the stage lamps hindered my ability to look outwards. I wanted nothing more than to please him.

Afterwards I tried my best to politely rush through the post-show pleasantries so that I could make it back to my dressing room. It _was _a triumph, and I felt amazing; exhilarated and euphoric and simply elated but I had only one person to thank for it; one person who would truly understand, one person I wanted to share this triumph with, just as I had shared my last.

I rushed through the corridors as fast as I could, passing people; gracing them with nothing more than polite smiles as I went. I didn't want any delays. Finally I had reached my dressing room. I pulled out my key excitedly and began fumbling at the lock; my excited nervousness preventing my hand from remaining steady. The key finally went into the lock, I was about to turn it when someone tapped me on the shoulder and I nearly dropped the key again as I jumped with fright. I turned around.

"Raoul?" I said. He was standing before me with a bouquet of pink roses. I was happy to see him but all I wanted to do was enter my dressing room and lock the door.

"Christine! Where were you off to in such a hurry?" Raoul asked. "I haven't seen you since last night... are you well?" He handed me the flowers and leaned in to hug me. I obliged.

"Yes... I... I am sorry I could not see you. I was quite exhausted."

"That's quite alright. I hope you weren't ill?"

"No, no. Just fatigue. Practicing too hard, I expect." I said. I felt terrible about blatantly lying to him but I could not tell him the truth. This was the easier way out and I didn't want to say anything that would draw out the conversation. Not now...

"Yes well, it paid off. You were wonderful tonight."

"Thank you." I smiled. "And thank you for these." I looked at the flowers. "They are beautiful."

Raoul smiled. "I thought you might like to go for supper tonight? Perhaps we could catch up on these past years. I had planned on us going last night but..."

"I was quite tired..." I said, looking away.

"Yes... you did mention that." Raoul moved closer to me and held my shoulders gently. "Are you quite alright, Christine? I mean you must have been quite tired indeed last night... I called to you and you did not respond at all. Only... I could have sworn that I heard another voice..."

"Another voice? That's absurd? Who else could possibly have been in there with me?" Perhaps I was a little too defensive...

"No... you're right. I must have imagined it. So... would you like to go?"

"I can't, Raoul." I said hastily. "Thank you for the flowers and for coming to see me, but I'm still quite tired and I have another performance tomorrow night."

Raoul's face dropped.

"Oh." He said, disheartened. "Alright."

I took this opportunity to open the door to my dressing room. I did want to see Raoul but I needed to speak with someone else. I needed to see him, to thank him... I was worried that the longer I spent with Raoul the smaller the chances of seeing _Him; _The Phantom would be. "I really am sorry, Raoul. Perhaps another night this week? I would like to catch up with you."

Raoul seemed to light up at these words. "Alright." He smiled.

"I really do have to go, Raoul. I am very tired." I said, walking inside.

"Yes, well. I don't want to keep you. I will be at your performance tomorrow." He smiled. I felt terribly rude dismissing him in such a way. He was my childhood friend and I knew that he cared for me deeply. Perhaps I cared _him_ in the same way... but I could not think straight.

"Good night." I said, finally closing the door and locking it before anyone else could approach me.

I walked in to find the room to be nicely lit and the flowers from last night's performance still decorating the room. There weren't many from tonight's; perhaps most had already gone to La Carlotta... I stared at the mirror in front of me; the mirror that had revealed him to me...

"Angel?" I asked, apprehensively. We had not arranged a meeting point as such but it was fair to assume that this would be it. I stared at the mirror a moment longer, a blush spreading across my cheeks, my stomach doing somersaults as I waited for him to appear. I found that I was even biting my nails; a habit I had not been acquainted with since I was a child. I cursed myself for my foolishness and sat down in front of my make up table just as I had done the night before. He would come when he was ready.

I had just finished taking my hair out from under the comically exaggerated, powdered wig when I heard him... I heard that deep, velvety voice address me once more.

"Christine." Was all he said. I turned around to see him slowly stepping out of the mirror I had been staring at. My eyes widened with shock. How had I not noticed this last night? How long had it been like this? The mirror actually _slid_ to the side! It was a doorway revealing the long passageway I had remembered from my 'dream'... only it wasn't lit as I had remembered. There was nothing but blackness behind him and if it were not for the white mask i would not have seen him entering the room at all. He slid the mirror back behind him and stepped towards me.

"Angel." I said. It was all i_ could_ say. I had waited since our last meeting in such anticipation... but now that he was _here _in my dressing room i found that i was lost for words. This man exuded power from his very being and now that he had entered the room i found that i could not bear to look anywhere else. My eyes were drawn to him, like a moth to a flame and try as i might i could not explain it. Yes, this was my Angel of Music... but he was also The Opera Ghost... and i was alone with him. I didn't know how i felt about that.

"Please." He began, waving his gloved hand dismissively. "My name is Erik."


	3. Chapter 3

Hello! This is a long one and it took me a while to figure out where exactly i wanted it to go... hopefully i made the right choice.

Thank you to all the new readers and I'm really appreciating the reviews. Hope you are liking the story so far.

Ok, Chapter 3! :)

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

There she was. Christine. Even in that ridiculous costume she took my breath away. She never failed to... She had come straight from the show. She must have because I left as soon as curtain had finished and I had just made it to the mirror in time to see her entering the room... Just in time to see that sop of a boy chasing her; trying to persuade her to leave and spend the evening with him instead. I had seen him last night as well and he had done the very same thing. Soon enough he would catch up with her and they would be able to have their little rendezvous when I was not around; somewhere out of my sight... perhaps they would leave the Opera and have their reunion somewhere out of my power... I_ had _been the proclaimed 'ghost' but even I could not be everywhere at once... I _had _to get to her before that happened. I had to make her mine, make her love me somehow... against all odds.

This time I would not use any tricks or illusions to win her over. She now knew that I was nothing but a man, and so I would attempt to court her... as a man. I hadn't really any idea where to begin but speaking to her was undoubtedly a good start.

I had heard her calling to me and it took all the strength I possessed not to go to her at that very moment. I would _always _come when she called. I had once told her that I would _always _be there for her when no one else would, but that was then... I restrained myself. I did not want her to think that I was watching her all the time. Of course, I was... but never in an improper way. Never at all.

When I felt as though enough time had passed I finally made my entrance. Nothing like my first entrance; this one was rather awkward... I had almost completely entered the room and yet she had not heard me. I did not want to frighten her so I spoke; I called her name;

"Christine." I said.

She spun around and stared at me and I felt even more awkward than before. With one gaze she had stripped me of all my defenses.

"Angel." She said; her mouth still agape in shock. '_Angel'_ she had called me. It seemed to strange when it had once seemed so fitting... She knew now that I was no angel, but of course, she had nothing else to call me.

""Please. My name is Erik." I said to her. Hopefully this was a good start. She stared at me in disbelief; as if in complete shock that I could have a name, an actual identity. Of course, it did feel quite strange hearing it, even coming from my own mouth. I had not used it in such a long time.

I walked closer to her but she did not shy away as part of me had expected her to. "We both now know that I am no angel..." I chuckled mirthlessly. I gestured to the divan to my right. Perhaps if I were sitting, she wouldn't feel so threatened. "May I?"

"Oh... of course. Yes!" I smiled. She turned her chair towards me slightly. That was something...?

Taking off my cape and gloves I lay them neatly on the divan.

"I apologize for my lateness." I said, flipping my tailcoat out behind me before sitting down.

"Oh, not at all." She said, staring at me. Given her slightly skittish nature I would have thought that if anything she would have tried to avert her gaze from me... but it was quite the opposite. She seemed fascinated with me; seemed to be studying me from head to foot and it was making me quite nervous. I found myself worrying about futile clothing details; had my trousers been pressed neatly? Were my boots shiny enough...? Then I started to think on my mask; what would she say about my mask? Perhaps last night it would have fitted in with the abject illusion I had created around her but not now... not anymore. She would ask about it. It was only a matter of time.

She kept staring and staring; studying me with such intensity that I could not meet her eyes. I found that I was beginning to blush. I cleared my throat; deciding that if I did not speak now, I never would. Before I _could_ however, Christine spoke up.

"I'm sorry..." She looked away. Sorry? Perhaps she realized.

"Ah... What?" I asked; my words almost on top of hers.

"I'm sorry... If I'm staring. I've just... never seen you so clearly before."

I smiled and dusted my pants casually. I have no idea why I did it... they were impeccably clean...

"That's quite alright." I said, still not able to meet her eyes.

"You're in my dressing room..." She said. She seemed to be thinking aloud; trying to convince herself of what was happening.

"I am." I said.

"It's so surreal." She said. She had no idea how surreal it really was. "Are you not worried that someone may come in?"

"No, Christine." I had seen her lock the door, of course.

"Why?" She asked innocently.

Why indeed. I couldn't tell her that I had seen her. I couldn't tell her that the mirror was, in fact one way glass and that I could watch her whenever in fancied. I couldn't tell her that _that _was why I knew so much about her; how I was able to speak to her... I was not ready for such explanations. I knew that they would come... but not tonight. For now I had to win her trust.

"I know these things." I said. Thankfully she seemed sated with my vague response.

"So... your name is... Erik?" She asked.

"Oui."

"Ok. That isn't a French name?" She questioned.

"No. But I was born here." I was alarmed that we were speaking of my childhood so soon. Thankfully, she changed the subject.

"And that... mirror..."

"Yes...?"

"You _did _just come out of there, didn't you? Is that how we... got to... wherever we went last night?"

I couldn't lie to her. I would not reveal the fact that I could see her _through _this door... not yet. But I would be truthful in everything else, as much as my pride would allow. "Yes. I didn't want to hide anything from you anymore, Christine. Now that you know me as a man I didn't want to use any trickery or illusion."

She nodded in understanding. "So, last night was... illusion?"

Oh god, here it was.

"...Yes and no." I answered. I picked at my fingernail nervously. "You must understand, Christine that I am a magician among other things... and."

"Other things?" I looked at her. Was she testing me? Teasing me? Was she asking me in all innocence? I didn't know how to respond so I answered as honestly as I could.

"Y... Yes..." She didn't want to know of my hobbies; she didn't really... not all of them. "I am an architect and designer... and... a magician of sorts. I regret that I used what power I had to..." I had to choose my words carefully. "To... disguise myself... and my world."

World? God, she did not even know where I lived. How would she react when I told her that I actually _lived _underneath the Opera...? It had been so long that until I realized I would have to say it aloud, it had seemed quite normal to me.

"Where did we go last night?" She asked. I knew then that I would have to tell her. "What lies behind that mirror?"

What lies behind the mirror? What lies behind the mask? I was not ready for this. Not at all...

"Christine... I..." I stood up and loosened my cravat.

"What?" She asked, her gaze following me as I began pacing the dressing room I had so often watched from behind the glass.

I sighed.

"How much do you remember of last night?"

"I have some memory of what happened... they appear like vignettes in my mind. I remember seeing you in the mirror. I remember the corridor. I remember where we were and I remember thinking that I had never seen anything like it..." She looked away and her eyes glazed over, seemingly lost in her memories. "I remember the music; such beautiful music." At this I tried to suppress a smile. That was _my _music she was speaking of. _Mine._

"I remember... "She looked up at me, almost apprehensive to speak. "I... remember your mask and how I tried to remove it." She stood up and walked towards me. I should have seen this coming. I didn't want to remind her of my lapse in sanity; my moment of insecurity and shame but there was no turning back now. "And I'm so sorry for it Ang... Erik." I looked at her. My name sounded so awkward coming from her lips and yet it seemed as if she had never called me anything else. "I should never have done it and... I had been wanting to apologize..."

"No Christine, I was at fault." How could she possibly think that she was at fault? The fact that it had plagued her as much as it had me surely something... didn't it?

"I had already forgiven you for that, remember? I should apologize... I don't want you to think ill of me or... fear me and when I think back on it and I see your face; the fear in your eyes, I feel quite sick."

"But it was _not _my place to do that. Albeit... frightening... your reaction was warranted. It was so silly of me. I just wanted to see you, to see who you were."

God, I had frightened her. That was the last thing I would have wanted to do. I was utterly disgusted with myself "I know." I forced a smile to show her that I was not angry with her.

"I am... just so sorry that I frightened you, Christine. You must know that I would never hurt you." I looked at her, my eyes pleading for her to understand, for her to forgive me.

"Erik..." There it was again. "Where did we go last night?"

This time there was no avoiding it... I _had _to tell her.

"I'm... afraid Christine." I admitted.

"Afraid? Of what?"

I sat back down in the divan, this time Christine sat next to me.

"I am afraid that if I tell you, this will all be over. This glorious dream will come to an end and I will be no better off than I was before I met you."

At this, she placed her hand on my leg. Her small, white, perfect hand was willingly touching me and now I could not concentrate on my words.

"Please tell me." She asked.

I couldn't move but I had to speak; I had to or else she would remove her hand.

"I... Last night I... took you to my home." There it was. It was out.

"Your home?" She asked in disbelief which was understandable enough.

"Yes..." I looked at her apprehensively. Surely now she would leave. She would run away, run to that boy who follows her around and never speak to me again. I had my mind set on the worst possible outcome such that nothing at all prepared me for her answer.

"Well... It is quite strange but... I suppose that I live at the Opera as well..."I was speechless.

"No doubt you... have a lot of questions..."

"Yes. I have many questions..." She agreed. "But for the most part I just cannot believe that you are here, sitting next to me. I wasn't sure if I had dreamt it all or not. I woke up and it all seemed so distant to me... and then I saw you and you seemed so real..."

"You weren't meant to see me." I said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Maybe not." She replied. "But I do not_ regret_ seeing you. Do you regret me seeing you?"

At that point I looked up at her. God, I loved her. I loved her and I wanted to tell her. "No. I don't." Of course I didn't. If she hadn't seen me then I wouldn't be here; talking to her, and how glorious it was, just being able to speak to her after all this time. She smiled at me and my heart melted. I couldn't bear to be around this woman and yet I could not bear to be away from her.

"Did you see my performance?" She asked suddenly, knocking me out of my reverie.

"Of course." I said. At last, a realm I was comfortable in; music.

"And?"

"And you were perfect, Christine." I said sternly. She beamed. It appeared that I still had _some _power over her. "You genuinely deserved the role and you played it as if you were born to."

"Thank you." She said, attempting to hide a yawn. I smiled knowingly at her.

"I should go." I said.

"No, no! I'm not tired."

"Yes, you are. You've just finished a performance, my dear. It was irresponsible of me to arrange a meeting at this time."

"I arranged it, remember!" She said, smiling. "I wanted to see you and I still do, so stay."

"You have another performance tomorrow night, child." I said, standing up. "I should not keep you up."

"Angel... Erik...? Stay for a little while longer?" She pleaded, looking up at me with those eyes; pulling me into their depths of dark brown; the hue of which I feared I would become lost in if I did not look away. Had she any idea the power she had over me?

God, I feared that if she asked me one more time I would not possess the power to leave. Of course I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay in that dressing room until the end of time; just speaking with her. Learning about her, and I would answer any question she asked of me; anything at all. But I had to go, it was only a matter of time before somebody, probable Madame Giry came in to check on Christine and as much as I trusted her, I was not ready to reveal myself entirely to anyone but Christine.

Just when I thought I had used up all of my resolve she placed her small hand in mine. I looked down at our hands. Would she be willingly holding my hand if she knew of the sins it was capable of; the sins _I _was capable of?

"Christine..." I said, half warning, half encouragement. As if hearing only what she wanted to from my voice, still looking up at me she entwined her fingers in mine and I was lost.

"Christine." I repeated.

"Don't leave." She said, tightening her grip.

"I... don't _want_ to leave." I said. She stood up in front of me, now holding my hand in both of hers. The warmth was unbearably pleasant. How would I go on? How would I now live without her touch?

She opened her perfect mouth to speak but I shall never know what she was going to say because just then, there was a knock at the door. Both of us almost jumped at the sound.

"Christine?" A voice called; it was Madame Giry. If I had not been so well acquainted with this woman I would have damned her for her absolutely woeful timing. "Christine, are you alright?"

"Y... Yes." Christine called, not breaking my gaze. "Yes I'll be there in a minute."

Regretfully, Christine released my hand and the cold was more noticeable than it had ever been.

I so desperately wanted to ask to see her again as soon as possible. I knew that the hours between leaving Christine and seeing her again would be unbearable. But I knew that I could not ask such a thing, if Christine wished to continue this friendship, courtship... whatever it was; it would be on her terms.

Taking a breath I stepped back and began to put on my gloves.

"When... Can I see you again?" She asked boldly.

"I... you wish to see me again?"

"Yes, of course! I have many questions and..."

"Christine!" The voice from behind the door called sternly. Christine continued in a whisper.

"...and I would... just like to see you again."

It didn't matter to me _why _she wanted to see me or in what capacity. Of course I would accede.

"You may see me whenever you wish." I said, sounding as casual as I could.

"Alright." She smiled. "Tomorrow night? Same time?"

"Perfect." I said, picking up my cape.

"I should go; Madame Giry is getting quite anxious." I whispered.

"Yes. I... I will see you tomorrow."

"As you wish." I said, opening the mirror once more. "Oh, before I leave I must give you something." She looked up at me, apparently puzzled. I pulled something out from behind my back and handed it to her. "I was never one for breaking traditions. Goodnight Mademoiselle." I smiled, walking through the threshold and closing it behind me before she could react.

I could not help myself and turned back to see her reaction. She stared at the object and smiled. It was a long stemmed red rose with black ribbon tied around the stem. I had been careful to remove all the thorns before giving it to her, as always.

"Goodnight, Erik." She said quietly as she touched the mirror.


	4. Chapter 4

Again, wrote most of this in one sitting. So i'm pretty wrecked. Also, its 2am! But this chapter is cute, i think :) It's a nice change from my other story. Don't get me wrong, i love writing drama and suspense... but sometimes its just nice to write about happy, Erik because its SO far from reality... well... fanreality :P

THANK YOU FOR LE SUPPORT!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

* * *

Still holding the rose I rushed to the door.

"Are you alright, child?" Madame Giry asked with a stern expression on her face. "People have been asking after you."

"Yes I... I was speaking with my tutor..."

"Ah." She said, nodding knowingly. "I see."

She looked down at the rose in my hands.

"And what did he say?"

"He... just congratulated me." I said, ignoring the slight tone of suspicion I sensed in her voice. I trusted Madame Giry; Ever since I came to the Opera she had been like a mother to me and I had always told her everything, trusted her with every secret... but I couldn't trust her with this. Not yet.

What I had just experienced with... Erik was like meeting someone for the first time but in a way it had seemed a long time coming; as if I were finally meeting an old friend. Whatever it was, it was new and special and I didn't want anything to jeopardize it. I wouldn't tell anyone about Erik... I couldn't. Not yet. Not when I knew so little about our friendship... or courtship? No, I was silly to think that. He had not done anything at all to make me believe such a thing and surely it was a strange concept. What _would _I tell Madame Giry and Meg when the time came to pass? That I was courting the Opera Ghost? No, surely not. As soon as he left I found myself questioning my feelings. And whatever the feelings were, they were strong. For a man I had only physically just met, I almost found myself willing to give up a dream role just to spend more time with him...

We must have only spoken for half an hour or so but I felt such a strong connection... perhaps one that had always been there for me to see but I had not looked for it.

Madame Giry looked at me for a moment before speaking. Had she believed what I had told her?

"Yes, well. You must come to bed now. It is quite late."

As we walked back to the sleeping quarters I found that my thoughts drifted back to Erik; back to the Phantom who no doubt usually roamed these corridors at this time, back to my Angel who would always be watching over me. As a girl I had no fear as I roamed the ill-lit corridors of the sleeping Opera house for I knew that my Angel would watch over me wherever I went. Now, I felt the same sort of protection. I knew that if Erik wasn't close, all I had to do was call him and he would come, just as he has always done. I looked around me. The darkness seemed to engulf my entire surroundings save for random shreds of moonlight which littered the walls and the lamp which Madame Giry held out in front of her. I smiled to myself in the darkness; the darkness which in every way now reminded me of him. It was my special little secret.

"Did you see le Vicomte de Chagny?" Madame Giry's voice broke the perfect silence which surrounded us. "I believe he wanted to see you. Meg tells me that he is an old friend of yours."

Oh yes, Raoul...

"No I... I haven't had the chance."

"You should see him, Christine. He seems like a nice boy and he would treat you well."

"Yes, I would like to see him."

"Good, should I tell him that you will see him tomorrow night then? After your performance?"

Tomorrow? No, not tomorrow.

"I... cannot see him tomorrow." I said.

"Why not Christine? This is the third night you will have dismissed him. He will not wait forever, you are aware."

Madame Giry was a stern, righteous woman, she had never been one for avid affection and she did not often express herself. I knew though that she cared for and wanted the best for me. She always had and this was her way of showing it. She knew the way the world worked, she wanted me to have the best life that I possibly could and in order to do that, I would need to marry into money. Raoul seemed like the perfect choice; he was rich, yes, but I had already built a friendship with him which was more than what most women got when they married... I knew that the chances of finding a suitor like Raoul would be slim... but perhaps I did not want a suitor like Raoul...

"I have plans tomorrow night..."

"What plans?" She asked.

"I... Madame, you know that my tutor wishes me to return to him after each performance." As true as the statement was, I _wanted_ to see him again. I was quite happy to blame it on him if it meant that I could see him, and I was quite sure that he would be welcoming of the blame if he knew of result.

"Your tutor." She said, stopping in her tracks, the lamp light sitting eerily on her face. To my knowledge, Madame Giry did not know the identity of my tutor, no one did. "Yes. I suppose that your career is important... but so is marriage, Christine. You should make time for le Vicomte and you should make it soon."

I lay in bed and began to think on the past few days I had had. Ever since my father died I had felt out of place, as if a piece of me were missing or ill- fitting. It was as if a piece of my puzzle was turned around the wrong way and as much as I had molded it into place over the years, it would never truly fit in.

Now, I felt changed. My father had told me that he would send to me the Angel of Music, perhaps he had known the importance of such an Angel. Perhaps Erik had known father. This was the link to my father I had been searching for; the link to _myself... _the missing puzzle piece. The Angel had been my companion in the Opera house when I hadn't anyone else. Had it always been Erik? _Had _father sent him? There were so many questions left unanswered, swirling around in my mind; creating a vortex which was preventing me from sleep. _How _could I possibly sleep when I knew that I was seeing him the next day? How was I to get through an entire performance with everything on my mind... with _him _on my mind?

I valued Erik because he was my Angel of music... but I knew that I valued him for other reasons as well. He had been so real; _so _real and there was so much left to discover.

* * *

I poured myself a glass of Merlot and sat down at my desk. For months all I had been able to produce was mediocrity; dreary iterations of ballet music and drawings which lacked passion entirely. Everything had changed. I was inspired. I wanted to draw, write, play... I wanted to express myself but when I finally put graphite to paper I found that I could not focus. I could not help but think of Christine; our conversation, our proximity... I could still feel her warmth in my hand.

She wanted to see me! She _wanted _to see me! She had met me as a man, as a real, tactile person and yet she wanted to spend time with me. The thought seemed utterly impossible and yet it was true. I did not care under what circumstances or pretense she wanted to see me; they were minor details.

I felt the peculiar sensation of laughter bubbling up inside my chest. The feeling was so foreign to me that at first I resisted it, but the more I thought on the prospect of Christine and myself, the harder it became. Eventually, I gave in and let it overcome me in a wave of warmth and elation. How could something so fortuitous have befallen someone like me? I could not remember the last time I had laughed aloud but the feeling was just as addictive as the cause. It seemed quite strange to be laughing at what was seemingly nothing. I felt quite mad but I found that I did not care! Beside the fact, I was alone... who was there to judge me?

Downing the glass of wine in celebration I poured another. I must have stayed awake for several more hours of elated merriment before readying drunkenly for bed and collapsing upon it. It was highly uncharacteristic of me to drink myself into such a state but I had never felt more at ease... never more connected with the human race. For once in my life I felt somewhat normal and was this not what normal people did to celebrate?

* * *

To my surprise I awoke to someone standing over me. Flooded with panic I forced my eyes open to see Madame Giry standing over me, accusatory expression upon her face and her hands on her hips.

"Erik." She said plainly.

"Madame!" I exclaimed, jolting awake, clasping my hand to my face. "What are you...?" I was unaccustomed to seeing _anyone _in my living quarters upon waking... or any time at all. Madame Giry had been the _only _person I had given information to regarding my entrances for I knew that she would guard said information with her life. However this privilege was _not_ code for invitation.

"_What _are you _doing _here?!" I pulled the blankets up to my chest. "I am not dressed! _What is the meaning of this?"_ Slowly I got out of bed and turning away from her, replaced my mask and wig before spotting my discarded shirt on the floor and pulling it over my shoulders.

"This is an outrage! I did not give you permission to visit whenever you so pleased." I sat back down on the bed and held my head in my hands "You know that I sleep during the day..."I mumbled irritably.

"Oh, never mind that, Erik. I need to speak with you about someone."

"Yes, well surely this someone has _died _or something equally dramatic has befallen them." I rubbed my eyes absentmindedly. "There could be no other reason for you disturbing me like this; invading my privacy."

"Oh, don't be like that." She said, sitting down across from me. "It's Christine."

Christine? How could I have said something so awful about _her_?

"What of Christine?" I said, looking up.

"Did you see her last night after the performance?"

"Yes." I said defensively. "I am her tutor. Of course I saw her after her performance."

"Are you seeing her again tonight?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you asking me these questions?"

She sighed and began distractedly fiddling with a piece of fabric on her shawl."You know that I care about you... that I care about both of you."

"What is troubling you, Madame? Please do get to the point so that my peaceful slumber and I may reunite."

"I want to know what your intentions are with her. You know of our new Patron le Vicomte I assume? I have seen him near her dressing room and... I am aware of his interest in her."

"His interest?" I asked, sitting up a little too abruptly... I held my head once more. I had had red wine instead of white but the headache was still sizable. "His _interest _in her? He does not even know her!" Of course I had known of his interest. It was plain to see.

It was absurd for people to assume that he had some sort of claim on her just because he had been seen around her dressing room. Was that what everyone thought?

She shrugged. "Apparently they were childhood friends." This I had not known... I was not sure that if the time came I would be able to compete with someone she had met so young. Perhaps he had known her father; if that were the case she would undoubtedly want to spend time with this person. What sort of person would I be if I prevented her from doing that...?

"A long time ago..." I muttered, quite displeased with myself; I sounded like a petulant child, sulking over something they could not have. Perhaps that was what I was.

"So you _have _seen him around her?"

"I may have..." I said, turning out my bottom lip in a sign of disinterest.

"Well, I know of their friendship but it seems clear to me that he wishes to court her." I felt a terrible, lunging sensation in my stomach at her last words. Yes, I had known of his intentions but this had confirmed my fears... If it was clear to other people, soon enough it would become clear to Christine.

"What has he to offer her?" I asked, almost to myself.

"Money..." She began.

"_I _have _money_."

"So it _is _a matter of interest?"

"I... want what is best for Christine." I said, trying my best to sound diplomatic. "I do not however think it wise for her to throw her career away for something as trivial as marriage, _and _to someone such as him. He is young and frivolous with money, he will have spent It all by the age of thirty, I guarantee it... _AND..." _I raised my finger. "_And _he is not a musician; he could never fully understand Christine or truly appreciate her."

"Erik, I came to ask you what your intentions were because I knew that le Vicomte had set his sights on her. I didn't want her music lessons getting in the way of... what I believed to be an opportunity for her; I wanted her to make an effort with him because I believed him to be a good option for her."

"Option?"

"...For marriage." She said tentatively.

"Madame..? Surely not!" I was astonished. I had always thought Madame Giry to be quite scrupulous in nature and did not at all expect her to place wealth and societal position above love... above music... but Christine's well being _was _paramount...

"Yes, but I am more than happy for you if you _do_ have intentions with Christine... Do you?"

I hated having to reveal anything about myself; my plans, my thoughts, my intentions... But I had to swallow my pride. If I wanted to win her I simply had to.

"Yes... I have intentions." There it was. Any dignity I had retained sitting on the bed in my disheveled state was gone. "...No doubt more honorable than those of _le Vicomte_."

"Yes." She said, seemingly ignoring my addendum. "I thought as much. I feel then that I should caution you. As much as I love Christine, she can be quite fickle... I worry for you."

"So then... you wished for me to step aside so that that boy might have his chance with Christine, and now when you learn of my intentions you wish to discourage me anyway? Madame, while I appreciate your concern I am more than capable."

"I simply worry for both of you! You are like my brother, Christine; my child. Of course I wish for two people that I care about to find happiness together... I just wished to discuss it first."

"Yes, well is this enough discussion for now? Have you finished your interrogations? I wish to return to bed."

"Yes. Yes, I will take my leave." She stood up and walked to the same doorway through which she had entered.

"Madame..." I called.

She turned back. "Oui?"

"How is she...?"

Madame Giry smiled. "She is happier than I have seen her in quite a while."

"Merci." I said. I could not prevent the smile from spreading across my face. It was selfish to think that I could be the cause of such a thing but I would allow myself the delusion... at least for a little while.

She left as abruptly as she came. I scratched my head, utterly beguiled by what had transpired. No matter, I knew that when I awoke it would be time to see Christine once more.


	5. Chapter 5

I loved writing this chapter. Let me know what you think.. quite long I know but I got carried away.

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

Again, I rushed through the crowds after my performance, politely dismissing those who tried to enter into conversation with me or congratulate me.

Again, I was met with Raoul.

"Supper, Christine?" I spun around to see him standing behind me, watching me open the door to my dressing room and the secrets that lay beyond it. "Come, Little Lotte. It has almost been a week since my arrival and you have not yet had supper with me."

"Raoul." I sighed, leaning on the door. "You don't understand..."

_Why are you making me do this? _I didn't want to keep hurting him but I couldn't possibly explain my actions.

"What is there to understand?" He removed his top hat and walked closer to me. I couldn't help but push myself further against the door behind me. "If for whatever reason, I have offended you, you must tell me. Is that it, Christine?"

"No. Not at all!" I reached out to touch his arm reassuringly. What was I doing? I was confusing _myself_...

He stared at my hand, apparently perplexed by the action.

"What is it then?" He asked, taking a step backwards.

"I... I've just finished a show, Raoul. I am tired." It wasn't that. It wasn't that at all... truthfully I didn't know _what _it was.

"Well when? Christine, surely you know of my intentions. That much I have made clear."

_Intentions..?_

"I don't think that I am asking that much of you... just a simple meal. If I am bothering you, tell me and I shall not ask again."

"No, I... I _do _want to."

"Great." He said, smiling again and adjusting his cravat. "...When?"

"Raoul."

"When? Tomorrow?"

"Alright, yes. Yes." I said dismissively. It wasn't at all that I didn't want to see him... I just needed to see Erik and I didn't want Erik to think that I was late because I was talking to Raoul... "I have tomorrow off."

"Alright, then." He beamed. "It is settled. We shall have lunch here in the city. I shall take you to the finest establishment that Paris has to offer and you can have whatever you wish." He took my hand in his and kissed it gently before replacing his top hat and turning to walk away. "I shall leave you to rest."

"Thank you, Raoul." I said, smiling. I felt terrible. He was being _so _kind, so _decent _after I had treated him so poorly.

"Oh, Christine?"

"Yes?"

"You were wonderful tonight, as always."

"Thank you..." I said as he walked away.

Suddenly remembering _why _I had dismissed him I fumbled for my keys excitedly and opened the door to my dressing room once more. Just as I had last night, I locked it behind me and sat down to remove my wig. Raoul... He had always meant a lot to me; as a child he had been my best friend. But if he _was _my friend, why could I not tell him the truth? Why did I have to dine with him just to keep the peace between us? He had spoken of intentions... what intentions were those? Surely I knew... Surely I had known all along...

I walked to the opposite wall and began to change behind the small, concertina barrier. When I sat back down at my dressing table I saw Erik in the mirror behind me. I spun around in alarm.

"You gave me a fright!" I said, standing up. He was sitting exactly where he had been the night before. "_How _do you _do_ that?"

"Do what?" He smiled smugly. "Same time, same place you said." My hand flew to my chest and I exhaled.

"I mean move about like that? I didn't hear you come in."

"Ah. Many years of practice as the resident ghost, I would say. Truthfully, I thought it might be quite entertaining to see the expression of shock on your face when you saw me."

"Well I did not find it entertaining at all." I said, sitting back down at my dressing table.

"I'm sorry, Christine." He said, standing up and walking towards me with his hands in his pockets. "I didn't know it would upset you that much. I won't do it again."

I looked at him in the mirror.

"Did you see my performance?"

"Christine, how could you ask that? Of course I did. Perfect as always... Some of your annunciation was lost in act four but you are just tired, I expect."

"You... watched all of it?" I turned around and looked up at him. He towered over me and the candle light highlighted his face perfectly; it was as if he had learned to use the light to his advantage in every situation. Only allowing me to see what he wished. His white mask was glowing and my eyes were drawn to it; I yearned to ask about it but I could not. Not yet.

"Of course, what sort of tutor would I be if I did not?" His piercing blue eyes stared down at me; they seemed as if they had the power to penetrate my every thought but thankfully they did not...

I stood up and faced him, as I did so he took a step back and his hands fell from his pockets. He seemed almost disarmed by my proximity; as if all his confidence had melted away in a second... He cleared his throat and turned away from me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"N... Nothing." He managed, sitting down just as he had done last night. I sat down next to him. He seemed anxious; vexed somehow. Deciding however not to pursue it, I spoke again.

"Erik... will you take me to your home?" He looked up at me.

"You... don't want to be down there, Christine. It's better that we stay up here, trust me."

"But why? It's just a dressing room..? Wouldn't you feel much more comfortable in your own home?"

"Perhaps but... it is not somewhere you should be. I do not live down there by choice, Christine. Do not ask to join me down there; instead relish your time up here, with the living... and allow me to do the same from time to time."

I didn't know what to say... he was being strange; cryptic in a way. I knew that there was a dark side to his character that he was not yet ready to unearth.. truthfully, neither was I.

"Alright." I said. "Let's stay up here. I would like to visit your home again, though. Perhaps one day?"

"...Perhaps." He said, looking away.

"Is it safe up here, though...? I mean..."

"No one will bother us." He said. "I..." There it was... I had known that something was on his mind.

"What..?" I asked. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"I just... I wish that I could take you somewhere; anywhere. You deserve_ so_ much..." Was that what had been on his mind? Truly, it did not matter where we were or what we did...

"Is that it? Is that what has been bothering you? Don't let that trouble you, Erik. Please..."

"_No, _you deserve _so _much... you deserve to be _courted _and all that _I _can offer you is a trip down to the cellars. It just angers me..."

_Courted? _

"You... wish to court me?" He looked at me then, shocked at what he had let slip and I could have sworn that I saw him blush.

"Well... I... When a man and woman... if they..." he rubbed his neck irritably. "If they should... If _you _should... Well I'm, I'm just saying that... when people court they..."

"Is that what this is?" I asked. Part of me was enjoying seeing him like this; it was a refreshing sight. Again, he looked at me; mouth agape.

"...Well... I w... I wouldn't say _that... _All I meant was... I mean... would... is that something that...? No... I meant..."

"I... _would_ court you." I said.

"I... you... what?" He asked; exasperated.

"I don't know what _this _is but... I have never courted anyone before. I would like for us to...?"

"I... I have not either. Do you mean that, Christine? I... wasn't trying to imply anything before, I... I mean I had _hoped _that such a thing would... come to pass but I would never presume to..."

"I know." I said, touching his hand.

"I mean... I wouldn't know where to start but I... I would give you anything you asked, Christine. I would give you all I had..." He held my hand tightly. I had never seen him like this; his voice seemed higher, his speech seemed to be picking up momentum and excitement with each passing word. His words; rushed in his child-like state of excitement, almost as if he were worried that if he did not get everything out, the offer would be revoked.

"And... I don't know how something like this can work... but... I know that I want to spend time with you. I want to spend every _second_ with you..." He smiled unabashedly and seemed only to be speaking to himself now. "That's enough for me. Is it enough for you?"

"Yes." I smiled. He took a breath and touched his forehead in complete disbelief.

"I never expected..." He began; his voice now deep and husky once more. "I just wish that I could... take you somewhere like the Vicomte..."

"Vicomte? What..?" What had he just said? Surely he had not heard the conversation outside with Raoul... how was that possible? "What do you know of that?" I probed. His face fell and I could see that he had not intentionally mentioned Raoul... only slipped in his state of excitement.

"I... I'm sorry, Christine. I should not have mentioned it."

"No... tell me what you meant." Surely he had not been eavesdropping on my conversation...

"I..." He sighed and released my hand. "I overheard your conversation with the Vicomte..."

_He had..._

"How..?"

"I can... hear things through the mirror..." He gestured to the mirror/doorway to his left. "And... I can see things."

"What?"

"I... I am so sorry... but believe me, I have _never_..."

"This... is a complete breach of trust, Erik." I moved away from him

"Christine, please. I have never... looked on you in a dishonorable way. I am not that sort of man."

"How do I know that? I don't know what sort of man you are! I hardly know you! Oh... what am I _doing_?" I stood up and walked to the mirror. What had he seen? What had he _heard_?

"I would not lie to you, Christine. Please... you must believe..."

"No, but you _would_ deceive me! Who _are _you!?"

"No I..." He dropped his head in exasperation. "I didn't... I. Please, Christine."

"I cannot trust you now, Erik. How do I know that you are who you say? Is that even your name?"

"Yes!" He stood up and held my shoulders gently. "Of course...! Chris..."

"How can I believe you?" I pushed him away. "_What_ have I been doing? Fooling myself into believing that this can work... that my feelings are real because now I _know _you; now _you _are real... But you aren't!"

"I am! This can work! Please, Christine... I promise. There isn't anything else. That is_ all_! I never..."

"How can I trust you..!? I think you should go..."

"_No,_ please, let me explain myself!" I turned to look at him and the desperation in his eyes prevented me from denying him his wish.

"Alright..." I sighed. "Explain."

"I... I never lied to you, Christine. And surely, whatever I am... you know that I would never to anything to hurt you. I am able to hear things through the mirror because it was designed as such... Do not forget that this is the main dressing room; it belongs to whoever possesses the leading role... It was La Carlotta's dressing room... and although I had always hoped it would be yours along with every lead role, it was primarily hers. I must admit to being the cause of many if not all of what has befallen her over the years... that was my prime objective..." He sat back down.

"You must understand that... being who I am dictates how I must live. I must see everything and hear everything; I must _be _everywhere. I never for a second intended for you to be affected by that. I have passages that go everywhere and caverns behind walls... you cannot even imagine how many. But you must trust when I say that I have _never _used them improperly. _Never."_

"I'm sorry, Christine. This is all such a mess. There is so much that you do not know about me... foolishly I had hoped for... whatever _this_ is between us to run smoothly but it cannot. I feel as though I need to explain myself before we can go any further... and I truly appreciate you allowing me to do so."

As he spoke, my anger faded away. Perhaps it was his words... perhaps it was simply the sound of his voice that was soothing. But I listened... I gave him the chance to speak that he so desired and with every passing word I understood a little more about him... and about myself. It _was _strange hearing him speak this much in person, but I grew used to his voice. It was, after all the voice that I had heard since my childhood.

I believed his words for he spoke them with such sincerity that I was powerless not to. He also seemed the type of person who would not willingly speak this much unless it were absolutely imperative... that spoke truth as well. But discovering this unearthed more concerns; concerns that I had held since our first meeting but had not mentioned... Why had he deceived me for so long...?

"It hurts me when you say that I deceived you for I never meant to do such a thing. All I _ever _wanted to do was to protect you, Christine. You must know that. I had hoped to avoid this conversation until it absolutely needed addressing but I can see that that time is now." Although I _was _listening, I was utterly mesmerized by his actions; the way he moved. Again, I could not avert my gaze as he did something as simple as loosen his cravat and sit forward on his seat.

"When... you came to the Opera as a child, I could see that you lacked comfort, guidance... I could see that you were in need of someone, something to hold onto in the darkness and I daresay I was in need of the same thing. So, perhaps It was selfish of me in the beginning... perhaps it was selfish of me up until now, but I identified something within you that was also lacking in me. You were lost without your father; you were shrinking further and further within yourself and I was convinced that if I did not intervene, you would be lost. I came to you as an angel because I knew that you would accept me that way... I knew that an angel was what you were looking for, and so that is what I became. Truthfully, the Angel of Music was a fitting title, I thought. I had _always _loved music." He smiled absentmindedly. He looked at me. "The truth is I didn't know your father. He didn't send me to you... But I _have_ watched over you as an angel would, and I always will. I... was simply a man who lived... _lives_ at the Opera and saw someone who needed guidance. I thought that we were similar souls, you and I..."

"I am not trying to justify my deception at all... it was wrong of me to keep it a secret for so long but as time went by and as we both grew older, I found it harder and harder to convince myself to tell you the truth. I knew that I needed to present myself to you as a man somehow and... I chose the night of your debut purely because I was afraid of losing you."

"Losing me?" His last words provoked my speech. What did he mean?

"...Yes. You see..." He seemed reluctant to speak. "Over the years, I... I had formed... affections for you... And I thought that... if you were reunited with your childhood friend, you may not have had time for me anymore; time for your music lessons... I feared that if you were reunited with... le Vicomte before I could reveal myself, I would not have stood a chance... Saying it out loud makes me realize how truly wrong it was. And, although I can explain myself, nothing really excuses my actions." He stood up and collected his cape. "Now you know. If you wish for me to go now, I will."

"No... Wait." I touched his arm as he was turning to leave and he looked down at my hand. "If you are just a man... how did you come to live here?" He smiled sadly at me.

"Quite a sad story, I'm afraid. And not nearly as interesting as that of an Angel's..." He chuckled mirthlessly.

"Will you not tell me?" I asked.

"I'm... not quite ready to share that... But please don't think that it is because I do not wish for you to know..."He smiled at me again and his eyes swam with the words he could not utter. He moved as if to touch my face but stopped at the last second. "I'm... so sorry for everything. I should go." He turned to leave once more but I had not removed my hand from his arm and I pulled him gently towards me. I did not wish for him to leave; not anymore. Not now that I knew the truth... what sort of life had he lived?

"No... I... don't wish for you to leave." He turned and stood before me; his eyes searching my face for answers he could not fathom. Then, I embraced him. He did not return it at first and I thought I felt him shudder slightly.

"I don't know why you live the life that you do..." I said quietly. "But I am so sorry for it. Do not for a second think that I do not want you here." Before I knew it, my eyes were welling up with tears; tears for him, tears for the moment, tears for the two of us finally reunited as _people._ "I _need _you here, with me. I need you to protect me as you always have..." As those words I felt his arms finally wrap around me and I was lost in the warmth of his clothing and the strength of his embrace. The security that I had always felt under his watch had materialized and I found that I did not want to let go. He held me tightly and I felt him exhale into my hair.

"Ch...Christine." He managed; more of a statement than a question but I knew that nothing would follow. I pulled away slightly and looked up at him; His eyes were filled with tears too and again he was searching my face for answers to a question he had not asked.

"Erik." I said, and a tear slid down his cheek.


	6. Chapter 6

This is a long one. Many thanks to all the new readers. Its great to know that people are actually interested in this and are enjoying my writing :)

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

**Erik**

I looked down at her in complete and utter fascination. How could this woman, this perfectly sublime and innocent creature be _so _forgiving of me, so understanding of my faults that she could actually bring herself to embrace me after all she had heard? I could not figure it out. Her words had completely disarmed me. All the hate and bitterness I had felt had simply melted away as she held me and uttered those incredible words...

_'I need you...'_

I had not hoped for pity or any sort of acceptance upon telling her those things; I just felt as if I owed it to her to speak the truth... or at least some of it. I froze as she willingly embraced me... it had been the first I had _ever _received and it was everything I had imagined it would be and more. Soon, I returned it; relishing in her warmth and trust. I wanted to speak, I wanted to tell her how much I felt... I wanted to thank her for what she was doing but all I could utter was her name. It was too much for me but I never wanted it to end.

"Erik." She said; my name, _my _loathsome name uttered from her perfect lips.

"Don't leave." She said.

That was all I needed to hear. If she wanted me there... that was where I would be. I would do _anything _for her. _Anything _she asked of me.

"No..." I said, my voice wavering more than I would have liked. No, I would not leave...

She smiled and held me again, head resting against my chest, arms around my waist. It felt so wondrous that I wondered how I had gone so long without this feeling... without her...

"This was my final performance for the week... so, you can stay late if you'd like..." Oh, how I would love to. I would stay forever...

_Tomorrow. _

_I had heard of her plans with le Vicomte..._

I had to mention it. I was being honest now and I had to get into the habit of it...

"Christine... tomorrow... in lieu of our conversation and... being honest." She looked up at me, almost afraid of what I would say. "You know that I heard your conversation with... _the boy_..."

"'_...The boy_?'" She laughed. "Yes... my conversation with Raoul..."

"Yes... well I know of your plans with him tomorrow. I won't pretend that I'm ignorant to his intentions... I just wanted to make it clear that I knew."

"Just as friends, I assure you... you don't need to worry."

But I could not help but worry...

"I appreciate you trusting me; letting me see him. I know that you used to be quite strict with what I did..." I smiled politely. Of course I trusted her. It was _him _I did not trust, and I was not comfortable with any of it.

"Will you stay though?" She asked.

"Yes... Of course I will stay." I said, almost admonishing her for asking such a trivial question.

"Alright, let's sit down." She said, taking my hand and leading me to the divan I had previously sat down on. I removed my jacket for fear of creasing it and sat back next to Christine...

_Christine..._

Never had I thought that such a thing would be possible. Perhaps it wasn't, perhaps it would end just as quickly. Regardless I would make the most of the time with her that I was permitted. I was reminded of Madame Giry, and her concerns.

"There is... something you should know as well."Again, she looked at me in fear of what I was about to tell her.

"It's nothing bad, I assure you. Well... it can prove inconvenient for me but, nothing to fear. Madame Giry and I are... acquainted."

"Really?!" She asked, utterly bewildered by the fact.

"Yes. I see no harm in telling you as long as you keep it to yourself. I'm sure that I can trust you as I have trusted her these many years."

"Yes, of course! Where did you two meet? How do you know each other?"

"A long story, I'm afraid. One for another time... I thought I should mention it because she paid me a visit earlier today."

"She did? So... she has been to your home?"

"Oh, yes. She quite rudely barged in while I was sleeping, come to that."

"Oh, she didn't." Christine said, covering her smile with her hands.

"Yes. I wasn't quite dressed either."

"Oh no!" She exclaimed, actually giggling.

"It _isn't_ funny Christine." I warned, holding back a smile myself.

"It is... just a little bit." She laughed, now making no attempt at all at disguising her amusement.

"No!" I said, actually smiling. "It wasn't funny at all, quite embarrassing actually."

"Then why are you smiling?" She teased.

"I... alright, maybe it's a little funny... but I told you because... stop laughing at me!" Christine was visibly laughing now and I had to admit that it was infectious...

"I'm... sorry." She laughed.

"I... No, you aren't." I said, refraining from actual laughter myself. "I didn't mention this for you to make fun of me! She came to see me because she was worried about you."

"Worried?" Christine asked, wiping her eyes.

"Yes. She wanted to know of my intentions."

"Well... she has always been like a mother to me. I still cannot believe that the two of you know each other."

"Yes." I smiled, my eyes distant. She had also spoken of her worry for _me _but I decided not to mention it. She could see that I was spending more and more time with Christine and her worries were probably warranted. The more time I spent with her, the more I lost myself in the utopia; the perfect world in which I did not belong. With each passing minute I fell more deeply in love with her and with each passing minute I worried that it was too good to be true; that it would be taken away from me. I was well aware that If Christine changed her mind now, I would be utterly broken. And yet... I could not stop myself from giving her everything I had...

She took my hand in hers and began to remove my glove.

"Erik?" She asked as the glove came off.

"...Yes Christine?" My reply was almost automated as I watched her deft hands strip me of yet another one of my defenses.

"Will you take me down to your home on our next meeting?" I watched her remove my other glove and proceed to hold one of my hands in her own. I had already expressed my feelings regarding my home but I found that I could not deny her wish... She was now lightly tracing my fingers with her own and what little resolve I had was lost in her caresses.

"Y...Yes." I replied, still watching her hands. I don't think that she knew what power she possessed or that she was intentionally using it against me. Either way, I could not deny her. I could not even speak. Suddenly I realized that my home would be the perfect opportunity... I could at least cook for her as if it were an actual date...

"Does that feel nice?" she asked, watching my face.

"Yes..." I repeated. Seemingly it was all that was left of my expansive vocabulary. Nice was an understatement... and these were just my hands! She smiled, apparently quite pleased with herself and then suddenly, much to my disappointment, she stopped.

"Can we... Do you mind if we..." I looked at her.

"What is it?"

"I was wondering if you would mind... if we lay down." She asked.

"You... lie down...?" I thought about it for a second. I could not possibly lie down next to her, it was highly improper... wasn't it? Of course, nothing at all would happen... was there anything really terrible about simply lying down next to someone? Of course, I wanted to. Just the image of my body next to hers was enough to make me agree without hesitation but I had to consider her...

"Do you not think it... improper?" I asked her seriously.

"No I... I don't think so. We would just be lying down. Is it improper?" I found humor in the fact that she was asking _me _about social normalcy. _Me. _I didn't know any more than she did.

"I don't know..." I answered truthfully.

"Perhaps we should just try it then." She reasoned. "If neither of us is sure... then it isn't really wrong, is it?"

No... Potentially, it wasn't.

Christine lay down on the inside of the divan and I, next to her on my back. This was arguably the most awkward I had ever felt but I didn't want to be anywhere else. As soon as I lay down she draped her arm across my chest and pulled me closer. I had no idea what to do... never before had I been in a situation such as this. I lay next to her awkwardly until she instructed me as to what to do.

"Put your arm around me." She said, gently lifting my arm. Immediately, I obeyed.

"Sorry..." I said. Surely it was not for the woman to have to _direct _the man in what he was doing. It must have been tedious for her and I felt a complete oaf.

"Don't be sorry." She said quietly, snuggling closer to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Surely this was wrong... it felt too good to be right; to be... allowed.

"I'm getting comfortable." She replied innocently. "Just relax."

Relax. How could I relax? This had to be perfect; every action of mine had to be delivered with precision... I didn't want her to think me a fool. I had always been _so _capable. What had happened?

But I was able to relax. After a few moments of lying next to her it felt as if I had never been anywhere else, never _belonged _anywhere else.

"Are... are you free tomorrow night..." I began, surprised by my own courage. "...after you see the boy?" Why could I not ask to see her? She wanted to be with me... surely what she was doing was evidence of that.

"Yes." She said sleepily, pulling me closer. I smiled.

"Take me to your home." She said, she was falling asleep, she really was. What was I to do? Surely, I couldn't leave. _ I _certainly couldn't stay where I was and fall asleep... what if someone found us? Worse, what if Madame Giry found us? Regardless, I wasn't in the least bit tired. No, I would simply have to wait until she was fast asleep and leave. It seemed a horrible thing to do...

"Christine..." I whispered.

"Mmm." She mumbled against my neck. Oh, how wonderful it felt.

"I should go..."

"No..." She said, pulling me close once more. "Stay until I'm asleep..."

I sighed. If I stayed, would I have the power to leave? But again... how could I deny her when she was so deliciously pressed up against me?

* * *

"Christine...?" I whispered. No response. Time to leave... How could I? She was so inviting, so soft... her face was almost buried in my neck, her warm breath tickling the soft skin there; unbearable but ambrosial. I was reluctant to leave but I could stay no longer, she was undoubtedly asleep. I slipped my arm out from under her, now fraught with pins and needles and gently stood up. She was beautiful... _so _beautiful.

Collecting my things, I checked my pocket watch; it was _quite _late, late for those who slept at night anyway. I decided that it would be quite a nice time for a stroll up to the roof. I did a lot of my soul searching up there; a lot of my big thinking... but I had never been up there in such a state of mind... I couldn't go back down to my home; not down there... that darkness. Not just yet. Not while I felt so alive.

Instead of exiting through the mirror, I left through the dressing room door; just as a normal suitor would have...

_Normal._

I smiled to myself and closed the door behind me. I put on my jacket and cape as I walked confidently through the halls. I knew that no one would be awake at his hour and even if they were, no one knew the twists and turns of this building better than I. Slowly, I made my way up to the roof, stopping just above the auditorium. I walked above the stage as I _had_ done many times before and found myself in the exact same position I had been when she had found me...

I smiled to myself, stroking the splintering wood of the rafters pensively, almost fondly. _So _much had changed. I moved my foot to adjust my stance when it was met with something on the ground; my lasso. I must have left it behind when I had let Buquet escape. I bent down to pick it up, and when I rose I was met with a voice.

"Ghost." It said. I turned around slowly.

Buquet.

"Is that a question or a statement?" I asked. I _was _somewhat surprised at his presence but not entirely. I _had _let him go after all and even then I had known it to be a faux pas... He had seen me. I should never have let him go. I could not help but toy with this man for he looked utterly ridiculous; pointing a knife at me as if _he _were the one in power. Even with the weapon in his hand, he looked utterly terrified.

"You shouldn't have let me go." He said, ignoring my rhetorical question.

"No, you're quite right." I said, walking towards him. He stepped back and raised his weapon. "I shouldn't have. I'm happy to remedy that though." I threatened.

"Not another step."

"Or what?" I asked. "I don't suppose a man like you could stop me." I had always _loathed _this man. He was filth; did not deserve life. I had seen him doing horrible things; looking in on the chorus girls changing, stealing... but worse, he had seen me. And I simply could _not _have that. How was it that someone such as him was permitted to live a normal life, a life above ground with all of the pleasures and rights of a normal man when I was reviled for the way that I _looked?_ It was not fair... It was not just. It was time to even things out. I stepped towards him again with my lasso firmly in my grasp.

"Don't come any closer, Ghost." He said, waving the knife in front of me.

_"Ghost."_ I repeated under my breath as I continued walking. He waved his knife again, lumbering forward and closely missing my arm. I looked at him and shook my head.

"I will kill you!" He jeered, his filthy brown hair falling in his face. "And when I do, I will find that _Christine_ you love so much..."

Christine? The mention of her name distracted me momentarily and I lost focus. Buquet threw his knife in my direction but I managed to evade the brunt of it. I yelled as the blade sliced my side. Before I knew what I was doing, the rope was around his neck.

"_You will not so much as LOOK at her!"_ I yelled as I pulled with all my strength.

After a few moments, he was still. It was done.

All of a sudden Christine's face came to mind; flooded my vision, my thoughts and every fiber of my being. Christine... How could I have forgotten? I had grown so accustomed to living my life without consequences, without having to trouble myself with the opinions of others that I had completely forgotten that I had something to lose. She would hate me for this. She would _hate _me. She would likely never speak to me again! What had I done?

I couldn't breathe... I stepped backward shakily, holding on to whatever I could in order to retain my balance. She would end it... This was the end. I had ruined everything. My heart was beating fast and I found that my cravat and collar were suddenly much too tight. I was suffocating. I had to get out... I needed air. I couldn't be in this prison a second longer. Hastily I made my way to the roof, holding my side and clawing at my throat in an attempt to let air in when, in reality I had more than enough.

I climbed the stairs, three at a time, stumbling here and there but never stopping. I had to get out. Finally I reached the rooftop, almost exploding through the door and falling to my knees in the snow. My head was spinning. My side was on fire but I did not care. It was not important. What was I going to do? I could not change anything... Perhaps she would not know? Perhaps I would not have to tell her that I was responsible...

What was I thinking? Of course I would have to tell her...

It was ruined and _I _had been the cause... I had known that it was too good to be true.

I held my head in my hands and wept. I wept unabashedly for what I had done and for what my actions would cause.

_Christine... I'm so sorry..._

* * *

**So, it was destined to happen anyway... but what will change now that Christine and Erik have already formed a bond?**

**Please review, friends!**


	7. Chapter 7

So, this turned out to be longer than I had planned for it to be. Hopefully now, things are falling into place and the narrative is differing more from the actual plot. Of course, it cant differ too much; some of the events from the movie will still take place, but the new narrative will depend upon Christine's new point of view more than anything.

This is a lot of Raoul in this chapter but i promise it is necessary to the plot.

Many thanks!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

Christine

When I awoke, he was gone. Had it all really happened? Had I fallen asleep in his arms? I had always dreamed of such a thing happening with a man but had never conceived what sort of man it would be.

When I was not with him, I simply existed... I did not feel alive and I would count the drab minutes until I could see him again. Today I would have to do that. I had promised to see Raoul and while I am not entirely dreading it... I can't help but think that I would rather spend the time with Erik. I have never felt like this before... I had not believed it to be possible, only something one reads in books as a child.

As I prepared myself for the day I wondered what Erik would be doing... Perhaps he was sleeping. Now that I knew him as a man I could not help but imagine him waking up and performing daily mundane tasks similar to mine. I laughed to myself at the slightly paradoxical imagery I had conjured up. But, surely the Phantom eats breakfast and irons his clothes just like everybody else?

I met Raoul in the grand foyer of the Opera. He was more than excited to see me and could not wait to tell me the elaborate plans of the day he had prepared.

"I am so glad that you are finally able to spend time with me." He said, turning to me as we entered the carriage and sat down. He was planning to take me to a small cafe near Notre Dame for lunch.

"Yes." I smiled earnestly. Honestly, I was quite relaxed in his company and I was enjoying myself... but I knew that it was only a matter of time before he mentioned his intentions again and I had not prepared an answer for when he did.

"It's been such a long time." He said, taking my hand. The sounds of Paris filtered in through the open window; the horse's hooves on the cobblestones beneath us, the quiet creaking of the carriage, gleeful yells from children on the streets. The city was alive and the sun was shining and I wondered if I would ever be able to share something like this with Erik. "What is troubling you, Christine?" He asked.

"Hmm?" I looked at him. I hadn't realized that he had spoken until I heard my name. "Oh... No, nothing. Nothing, I'm fine." I smiled.

"Its just that... you seem distracted."

"Forgive me. I was just... thinking about the Opera; my performance." I lied. Yes, I was thinking about the Opera but I neglected to mention exactly what aspect of the Opera was on my mind.

"Your performance was perfect; faultless. There is no need to think on it at all." He smiled, taking my other hand. I smiled at him but sat in silent cynicism. How could he hope to know what was perfect and what wasn't without a hint of musical knowledge?

"Thank you." I said, dismissing my cruel thoughts. He was my friend after all and I was being far too hard on him. "So, what do you have planned after lunch? I do need to be back..."

"Need to be back? Christine, we haven't even eaten yet and you are speaking of your commitments back at the Opera."

"No... I mean I have to be back by the evening. That's all."

Raoul smiled smugly, apparently at the prospect of being able to spend so much time with me. It was sweet. Surely I should be able to appreciate someone who cares so much for me... shouldn't I?

"Well..." He began. "I thought that we might take a wander in the Jardin du Luxembourg. I don't know about you, but I haven't been there for a very long time. And then... I thought that you might like to visit the Musee d'Orsay... and if time permits, I thought that we might have an early dinner as well."

"That all sounds lovely, Raoul. But... I think that I should be back for dinner."

"Oh? Why is that?" He asked as the carriage came to a halt.

_Because Erik has promised to take me to his home and if he offers me dinner I don't want to have to lie..._

"...Because I had promised Meg that we would dine together." I lied. "We always dine together on Monday nights."

"Oh. Alright then, I suppose." He stepped out of the carriage and offered his hand. "Mademoiselle?"

I took his hand and stepped out in front of what appeared to be a very small but expensive cafe.

"Raoul... this looks expensive." I remarked. He turned around and took my hand.

"Christine... with me you shall never have to worry about money. How can I put a price on you?"

Once inside we were seated at a small table near the window. This suited me perfectly as I would be able to stare out the window and find entertainment in trivial things when conversation with Raoul dwindled; like what passersby were wearing and how many carriages went by that I could count. It wasn't that I was bored by Raoul... it was simply that we hadn't much in common.

"I'm so glad to see that you are still singing, Christine." He remarked. "I always loved the sound of your voice when we were children. It was beautiful accompaniment to your father's violin."

"Yes..." I agreed. "He had much talent." Raoul took my hand in his and held it gently.

"I am... sorry that he passed. When my brother saw it in the paper and he told me I was... overcome with grief for you but I had no way of contacting you. How long have you been at the Opera?"

"I came to the Opera as soon as my father passed. Madame Giry has looked after me ever since."

_And as soon as I found the Opera, I found Erik._

Raoul nodded, regarding me silently.

"How _is _Philippe?" I asked, changing the subject before I was forced to dwell on my thoughts... before I was _lost _in my thoughts; Thoughts of _him. _

"Oh..." Raoul released my hand and peered out the window absentmindedly. "Philippe passed about a year ago..."

"Oh. I'm very sorry, Raoul." I reached out and took back his hand. "Do... you mind if I ask what happened?"

"No, not at all. We don't know what happened exactly. His..." He cleared his throat. "...his _body _was found near the Opera."

"That's terrible. Did he visit the Opera often? I am surprised I didn't see him at all." Surely I would have recognized Philippe had I seen him?

"Not often... I believe it was only his second visit."

I wanted to embrace him. Hearing about his brother was truly awful and I found that I was condemning myself for not being there for him; not being there when my friend needed me...

"I am so very sorry, Raoul." I said sincerely.

"Thank you, Christine." He looked at me and smiled; a tear in his eye. "It seems we are both well acquainted with loss..."

We spent the remainder of the meal on a lighter note; reminiscing about childhood memories without going into too much detail lest we be reminded of the loss that brought us together. Raoul had been my closest childhood friend and now, I found that I was elated to be in his presence once more. Yes, I was close with Meg Giry but Raoul had known my father. He and I shared memories that no one else did. There was a part of me that I left behind when my father died... and only _he _would truly understand that part. I found that in spite of myself, I was enjoying his company and I was able to converse with him just as I always had. I did not have to look out the window to find entertainment as I had so planned.

Even so, I missed Erik. I had not spent that much time with him but when I did I felt... whole. I did not think about _anything _at all except him and his presence. I wondered if on any platform, Erik and Raoul could become friends...

"Shall we?" Raoul asked cordially, standing up and presenting his arm. I gratefully took it and together we walked out of the cafe.

* * *

Erik

When I awoke I was pleased to see that no one else was in my sleeping quarters... not like last time. With one eye open I reached for my pocket watch and checked the time. It was early afternoon. Usually I only woke up at night but I had slept quite early. Were my sleeping patterns changing? Was I becoming normal...? More like Christine? I had always slept when others were awake and I had taken comfort in going about my business during their slumber. Never had I wanted to share _anything _with the rest of the world but now... the rest of the world included Christine... I yawned and rolled onto my back. Beneath me the crisp sheets crackled and I was reminded that this was the bed that Christine had slept in that night; the very same sheets. I smiled to myself.

Upon recalling the time spent with Christine the night before _and _the plans made with her for this evening, I couldn't prevent a smile from spreading across my face. Surely, a smile on this horrid face would look_ ghastly_ but I did not care. I looked around at my house; my domain... Soon, Christine would be here once more. She would be _here _of all places and willingly! Sitting on my chairs, walking my floors... breathing my air. Everything had changed. Even my own home looked different to me. I would get up, and after I bathed and dressed I would clean the place; make it presentable for Christine. It was the least I could do. Perhaps I could prepare music for her... or plan dinner? Again I yawned. Time to get up and prepare.

Upon stretching I was greeted with a severe burning sensation in my side. Pulling back the sheets and looking down I was met with a cut just below my rib cage. It wasn't deep but it was long and I had left blood on the sheets. Then, I remembered.

Buquet.

I had killed last night.

I must have been so distraught that I had neglected to treat it or even acknowledge it. I must have gone straight to bed.

How could I allow myself to be in such a mood when mere hours ago I had taken a life? How could I allow myself such boyish excitement when I knew that I would have to tell Christine what I had done? I would tell her and it would be over. It would _all _be over.

I sat up in bed and held my head in my hands. The cut was nothing. I had had much worse and I daresay that there would be worse to come... I had ruined my one chance with Christine. She was out the boy at this very moment... Perhaps when she returns she will have decided against me and telling her what I have done will only compound her thoughts...

_What am I going to do? _

I pulled my legs up to my chest and began to weep just as I had done last night. Never before had I reacted in such a way after murder. I had never had consequences before now... I did not weep for what I had done... I wept for what I would never have because of my thoughtlessness. I wept for the love I was _so _close to having... for the happiness I had never felt and_ would_ never feel. I wept for her. I don't know how long I sat there for, trying to find a solution through my madness.

Then, my body shaking and my mind delirious I made my decision. I would not tell her. Love built on a lie was not right... but it was still love, wasn't it? It was better than _nothing. _I could not live with nothing... not anymore. Not when I knew how I _could _feel... how a man _should_ feel with his mate. I could not go back to nothing. After what I had experienced and felt I could not live without her... without her touch... without her caresses... without her warmth. I would do _anything _to keep her.

_Anything..._

* * *

Christine

"Christine, I can't tell you how lovely it is to be in your company once more." We had been exploring the Jardin du Luxembourg for the past hour; the palace, the greenery, the fountains. It was wonderfully relaxing and I imagine that it would have been quite romantic had I been with Erik. Even so, I had always wanted to do something as simple as this with a man... a mate; just to walk hand in hand and talk.

"Yes. This is lovely." I said. "I can't believe that I have never been here in all the time I have lived in Paris."

"Ah well, you have been busy making a name for yourself as the country's leading soprano."

"Oh, Raoul. I've only done a handful of performances."

"Yes, and I have seen every one. You will be a star, Christine Daae." He _had_ seen every one. But so had Erik... and Raoul would not even have _seen _her had it not been for Erik's instruction. She wanted to get back to him... I smiled earnestly.

"What is the time, Raoul?"

"Christine." He said. "Do you really want to depart my company?" He checked his pocket watch. "It is just after three."

"No, Raoul I told you... it isn't that." I couldn't afford to be late. I got the distinct feeling that Erik wouldn't take kindly to it. Raoul regarded me for a moment before rewarding me with that charming smile of his and speaking.

"It's quite alright, Christine. It's just that after finally seeing you again I realized how much I had missed your company. I don't want today to end..." Again he took my hand in his and I did not have the heart to deny him. He stood in front of me and looked into my eyes. His lips twitched slightly, as if on the verge of speaking; his eyes seeking searching mine, seeking the answer to a question he had not yet asked. Just when he seemed as though he was about to speak his mind, he simply took a deep breath and smiled once more. "Shall we head to the Musee d'Orsay, Christine?"

I smiled halfheartedly and agreed. I had known what Raoul was going to ask me... Not the exact words perhaps, but I knew of his intentions. As he was looking into my eyes I was hoping against all hope that he would not voice his thoughts. Not just yet. I was nowhere near ready to answer them. No doubt, Raoul would be an idea man to marry. He would be a most suitable husband. We would have perfect children and I would want for nothing. I had known him for many years and he seemed decent in every aspect... But did I love him? I did not know. It would be _right_ if I loved him... it would be all that was correct and proper. Perhaps love would grow? Perhaps the more time I spent with him... but surely, marriage must be _built_ on love. After all, when one grows old and all else is gone, once all other hopes have failed, what else remains but love? And if there is no love to begin with... what then?

All of a sudden Erik came to mind. Perhaps I could love _him? _No, it was too soon for that... and surely it was impractical. But the way I felt around him was paralleled by nothing, no one...

For the next hour or two we walked arm in arm around the museum, remarking at the skills of those who we could never hope to match and all the while all I could think of was how much Erik would enjoy something like this. Erik was talented; artistic, creative... I had no doubt that he would benefit from something like this far more than Raoul would. When we finished, it was around five o'clock. I hadn't planned to meet Erik at a particular time but we _had_ planned to meet earlier than we usually did; around six. It would be nice to share a meal with him as I had done with Raoul.

"I should return now, Raoul." I said to him.

"Now? But Christine, it is so early!"

"I know but I told you that I had to be back by this time... I'm meeting Meg, remember?" I lied.

"But surely, Meg won't mind too much if we stay out?" No, Meg would not, but Erik would.

"Raoul, you said it was fine. Won't you please take me back? I have to be back." I was beginning to panic, if he did not take me back I would have to make my _own _way back and I had not spent that much time in Paris by myself... especially not when it was growing dark.

"Alright. I will take you back. But not before a very quick meal!"

"No, Raoul I cannot eat now!" It was infuriating!

"Yes, you can! Come, It won't take long. Just have something small so that you can eat again with Meg. I haven't seen you in years, Christine!"

"I know but..."

"One quick meal... Thirty minutes at the most." I looked at him, knowing that I would either have to accede to his request or make my way back to the Opera in the darkness. It would _not _be thirty minutes. I knew that. Raoul had always had a poor sense of timing and I never knew if it was some sort of short-coming or whether it was just plain carelessness.

"Raoul... if you don't take me home, I shall have to find my own way."

"Don't be silly, Christine! What is thirty minutes with an old friend?" He held both of my hands in his and walked closer to me. "Thirty minutes, that is all I ask."

I looked down. It was only thirty minutes more... surely Erik wouldn't be _that _upset.

"Alright." I said.

* * *

When we arrived back at the Opera it was almost seven o'clock. The dinner had run late and we had been there for more than thirty minutes; just as I had predicted. I bid Raoul goodnight and thanked him for everything. He asked me when I was free to do it again but I told him that I wasn't sure. Truly, I had no idea and all I could think about was Erik and how late I was. I rushed up the grand staircase and through the passageways; their beautiful filigree was almost completely lost in the darkness.

As I reached the floor of my dressing room I was confronted by Meg.

"Meg, what is it?" I asked, as she looked clearly distraught. She embraced me.

"Christine... something has happened."

_Happened? _Immediately my thoughts were filled with Erik. Had something happened to him?

"Wh...what is it?" I asked.

"There has been a murder. At least that is what the police said..."

"A murder?! Who was it?"

"It was Joseph Buquet; the scene shifter." She whispered frantically as if she had waited for hours to be able to discuss it with someone. "They found him in the rafters above the stage..."

Immediately I relaxed and realized how silly I had been to worry for someone like Erik. There was no way that he would be at risk in this Opera house. There was no possible way that anyone here would be able to outsmart him. I was so relieved that I had to stifle a laugh that escaped my lips.

"Christine... aren't you worried?" She asked, beguiled at my actions. "The murderer could still be here! Maman says that it isn't safe to be wandering the corridors after dark anymore and that I should make sure you had arrived."

Worried? No... I wasn't worried. I knew that Erik was watching over me and would never let any harm befall me under this roof, even if I _had _just spent the afternoon with someone else. Then... I realized... Buquet had been found in the rafters above the auditorium... exactly where I had found Erik a few nights ago. He _was _considered the Opera Ghost and there _were _rumors flying around the ballet dormitories about him... But there were rumors about everyone. Surely _Erik _was not the thing to be afraid of.

Surely not.

I pushed the thought to the back of my mind.

"I will be fine... Meg. I have to go to my dressing room right now. Would you tell maman that I am safe and that I have to practice?" I knew that if what Erik had told me was true, Madame Giry would understand.

"Your dressing room! At this hour! Christine... what is going on?"

"I cannot explain right now Meg, but I promise that I will."

"Alright." Meg replied with much reluctance. "Alright, I will tell her. How was your date with Raoul?" She teased.

"It was not a date!" I corrected. "I have to go, Meg. I will tell you everything, I swear!" With that I hurried through the corridors, leaving Meg in the darkness.

"You had better!" She called after me. I hated leaving her ignorant to my plans. I had always told her _everything. _But I had Erik on my mind and it was getting later.

In darkness i entered my dressing room. I closed the door behind me and locked it before turning around and squinting in a foolish attempt to see further in the darkness. Struggling over to my dresser i clumsily lit a candle and held it out before me. It allowed me to what i was looking for; a figure at the end of the room. Erik was there. He had been simply waiting in the darkness since I entered my dressing room, waiting for me to find him. He was standing by the mirror, his cape draped across his shoulders, his arms folded across his chest. I could not see Erik anywhere in sight, there was only the Phantom; shrouded in darkness. I couldn't help but shiver slightly at his icy stare. Then he spoke, his voice low and menacing.

"You're late." He said.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you for the kind reviews, mes amis! I'm glad you guys are getting into the plot and such. This chapter is quite short but do not fear; i have already started writing the next one. ALSO, i tend to update quickly just because i really enjoy writing. I push my uni work aside and just write which is terrible but... i cant help myself. Updating quickly is a good thing, usually. But let me know if it is too quick and ill do my best to keep you guys in suspense for longer :P

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

Erik

From the moment I woke up I was anxious about seeing Christine. I knew who she was with and while I trusted her, it was safe to say that I was ill at ease. Moreover I was anxious to see her because of what had happened; because of what I had done. I needed to see her as soon as possible so I could be secure in knowing that everything was alright between us; so that she could ask me about it, so that I could lie and be done with it and have everything return to normal. I needed to see her before anyone else had the chance to fill her head with the rumors...

_The truth..._

...The rumors that were more than likely floating around the Opera. They did so love to gossip about me. Hurriedly I dressed and prepared to leave.

Looking at my watch I discovered that it was only four o'clock. We had agreed to meet at six. Crestfallen I sat down at my organ, absentmindedly fingering the keys with my right hand as I sat, cloaked and ready to leave. I swung my leg around so that I was sitting on the bench and facing the instrument that in the past had provided me with the much needed escapism I required to survive the bleak hours... Perhaps some music would pass the time? It _had _served that purpose for the majority of my years. I began to play a melody but found that no matter which turn it took, it failed to please me. It wasn't that my fingers were clumsy or that they couldn't play what I needed them to, it was simply that whatever I tried to _do _with the melody, the result was always the same. It was stale; boring and it did nothing to ease my frustration. It only served to heighten it. I could not even focus on _music_.

I pushed my bench back and stood up, frustrated with myself. I was _not _inspired, I was not happy, I was nothing. I was stuck. I needed to see her. I needed to know that everything would be alright and the longer I waited, the more panicked I became. I couldn't be where I was... my home, my _tomb. _I could not rest knowing that my relationship with Christine was at risk. I could not lose her, not after everything I had felt... Not after knowing what _could _be.

I found that I could no longer bear to be where I was so I left. I collected my gloves and, never neglecting tradition, a red rose from the vase on my desk. Deciding that it was late and that no one would be entering the dressing room except for Christine, I waited inside for her. It was early yes, but it was better than waiting in my tomb for my absolution. In the darkness of her dressing room, I sat down on my favored divan and waited.

As it got later I began to grow anxious once more, checking my watch every minute as if expecting a drastic change on the clock face which would not occur.

_Five o'clock._

_Five thirty._

_Five forty five._

My leg began bouncing on the spot; jerking up and down repetitively; a habit I had acquired at a young age and usually a sign that I was anxious or that my patience was wearing thin. Tonight it was both. I took comfort though in knowing that I would see Christine in a matter of minutes. Everything would be sorted and I would be able to relax...

_Five fifty._

_Six o'clock._

Six! Where was she? She was _never _late and she _always_ kept her word. Perhaps she had forgotten? Perhaps she did not _want_ to see me?

_Five past six._

It must be that _boy! _What are they doing? Perhaps she was already told about Buquet and she has changed her mind? I began to feel sick in the stomach as my thoughts plummeted to the worst possible scenario; a learned trait.

_Six thirty._

She was half an hour late, I was fraught with nerves and I was beginning to feel short of breath. Yet still, I waited. As I sat there my mind conjured up imagery that turned my stomach to rot. Christine and Raoul... That _boy _with Christine on his arm, enjoying her smiles, sharing in the moments that should be _mine _to have... Believing her to be his... _His!_

Then I began to worry... _actually _worry for her safety. I did not know the first thing about this character. Perhaps something had happened? Perhaps he had hurt her and I was here feeling sorry for myself rather than watching over her as I had promised I would. Everything else was trivial when I considered her safety.

When she finally arrived it was past seven and I was beyond lost in a haze of jealousy and anguish. It threatened to cloud every thought and action but I did everything in my power not to sound desperate or vulnerable when I spoke. In spite of myself though, I exhaled slightly when she entered the room. Whatever else, she was safe.

"You're late." I said. I stood by the mirror, arms folded; subconsciously guarding myself in preparation for her response.

"Yes..." she said; her voice small. Just seeing her in that dim lighting, looking so afraid and apprehensive made me want to forget everything and hold her. How I longed to be in her arms again... "I... I'm sorry." She added.

"Care to elaborate?" Irritably, I shifted my weight where I stood. "We had plans, Christine." I was utterly insulted by the fact that I had to _ask _for an explanation. Did I not even deserve _that?_

"I... I'm sorry!" She began, haphazardly throwing her shawl down on a chair by the door. "I didn't _plan _to be late! I told Raoul that I had plans but..."

"_Raoul?" _I asked; more a statement than a question. My initial anger returned at the sound of that name. "So you _were _in his company the whole time?"

"Yes... Erik, you _knew_ where I was." She replied, almost a question.

"Yes. Yes I knew where you were but you were late! You cannot imagine how I panicked, Christine." I strode towards her. She stepped back slightly as I did so, perhaps frightened by the intensity with which I approached.

"Raoul _made _me stay out!" She reasoned.

"_Made _you? So you had _no _say in it, whatsoever? I am sure that if you really wanted to Christine, you could have returned."

"No, I couldn't! I..."

"I thought something may have happened to you but, no... You were simply in _his_ company, enjoying yourself. You were in his company after six when you had agreed to be in _mine."_

"Erik, I am sorry for being late but... don't treat me like I am simply... property to be shared." She stepped forward, apparently gaining confidence with every word she spoke. "I _had _agreed that I would be here at six and I wasn't. But do not presume that you _own _me at that time just because I promised that I would see you." This enraged me.

"Did you even have a thought, Christine?" I walked to her. Again she took a small step backwards but it did not deter me. I held her by the shoulders and questioned her. "Did you have a care at all for _my _feelings? I was sitting here for over an hour waiting for you. I _will not _simply wait in faith for you. I will not simply be here for you until you are done with your boy."

"That is not what this is, Erik. Is that really what you think? Is that what you make me out to be?"

I looked at her. Her eyes were burning into me; they bore into mine and somewhere within their depths I regained both my sanity and my composure. No, that wasn't what I thought. I knew her better than that. I was just horribly worked up and I wanted to tell her why... but I could not.

"...No." I said, releasing her gently and turning away. "That isn't what I think. But it was how I felt. I felt..."

"_Tell me_ how you feel. Just _tell me_." She said, touching my arm.

"I felt like a fool." I spat, the words sounding much harsher than I had intended. "I felt like I was nothing, sitting... waiting for you." Christine looked at me, her eyes willing me to continue. "I _know _how he feels for you; that _boy. _And all I could think about was you two together enjoying a world that I cannot."

"Well... firstly, I _told _you that I was seeing him as a friend and you agreed to it..."

"I know. I know." I nodded, slightly dismissively.

"Secondly... who says that _we_ can't enjoy the world together?"

I chuckled mirthlessly. "You do not know what lies under this mask, Christine... I _cannot _enjoy the world..."

"Well, we shall simply have to exist in a different world." She said decidedly. I had not intended to mention my mask; not this early, but the fact that Christine did not even ask about it upon my mention was too much for me to bear and the words she spoke near broke me. She had such a unique outlook on the world; perhaps it was a naive one. But her statement made everything seem so simple, so attainable. Things would simply _be _because she wanted them so.

"A different world..." I repeated, my voice wavering with emotion. "How I have dreamed of such a concept..."

"Take me to _your _world, Erik." She said, taking my hand. I looked down at her hand, then up at her face in disbelief. How could she be so forgiving, _so _understanding?

_Because she doesn't know the truth yet._

Of course; it was because she doesn't really know me. Once she does she will want nothing to do with me.

"I apologize, Christine." I began.

"There is no need." She said, silencing me with her raised hand.

"There is. Are you sure that you still wish to join me, tonight? I won't blame you if the answer is no... After the way I have behaved."

"Of course I do! Take me to your home. Show me your world once more."

I smiled and reaching within my cloak I presented her with the red rose I had prepared for her. Upon seeing it her face lit up and I was momentarily remiss of all my troubles.

"You never forget, do you?" She smiled.

"Of course not." I replied, regaining composure and standing up proudly.

"But... I haven't performed!" She said, beautiful in her child-like innocence.

"Did you really think that you needed to _do _something to deserve a gift from me, Christine? That was never the purpose of these. That was never _my_ purpose..." With that she threw herself into my arms which, still mostly unused to contact, remained where they were at my sides.

"Thank you." She said quietly.

* * *

I took her hand as we began to descend the many stairs that bridged the gap between her world and my own. Things had changed so much since our last descent down this staircase, and it was evident with every step we took. Christine had the same expression upon her face; that of wonderment and awe at her surroundings... but this time she was walking_ next_ to me instead of behind me and we were walking at a much more leisurely pace. Again, she was holding my hand but I knew that it meant _more_ tonight. Tonight I would show her all the things I hadn't a chance to the last time. I would treat her like a queen; she could have and do anything she desired and I _would not _frighten her. I smiled to myself as she walked beside me. Tonight I would be the exemplary gentleman she knows me to be.

Then, she asked the question I had been both dreading and anticipating. With those words she completely derailed my thought pattern and I was returned to the harsh reality in which I had been living prior to seeing her.

"Did... you hear about what happened to Joseph Buquet?" She asked, the echo of her voice surrounding us. I could not think of a more beautiful sound. I had known that she had been planning to ask me this question since she saw me tonight. I had seen the question on her lips several times since leaving her dressing room. I feigned surprise.

"Buquet... he is the scene shifter, no? No I have not heard of what happened."

"He... he was found dead above the stage."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes... they think that he was strangled. So terrible..."

"Indeed." I said, lacking interest. Despite my nervous anticipation I could not help myself. The man had done nothing to endear himself to me whatsoever.

"Erik... I'm sorry... it may be a silly question but I have to ask it."

"What?" I could see it coming; could what she was leading up to; it was as if she expected me to own up to the crime with each word she spoke; each small detail she gave me.

_Deny it._

_Just deny it._

"It's just that... Where they found him..." She thought before continuing as if ensuring that she would choose the right words. "It was the same place that I found you after that first performance. And I know that... that is where you watch me from."

"I watch the stage from many vantage points. What are you trying to ask me, Christine?"

"Were you there last night? After I saw you? Or this morning?"

"Just ask what is on your mind." I took a step closer to her. I wanted her to ask me... _needed _her to. "Ask me."

_Ask me and get it over with._

"Did... Did you kill him?"

"No." I said. She stared at me for a moment before looking away. Perhaps she knew the truth and chose not to think on it or perhaps all she needed was for me to deny it and she would believe me. Perhaps she wanted to think the best of me. Either way, I felt sick upon my answer. My chest felt heavy and I knew that if I wasn't already going to hell, I certainly would be for lying to someone so innocent; someone so perfectly pure that they wanted to think the best of me... _me _of all people.

"I did not kill him." I added plainly. There... it was out. The lie was out.

"I knew that you didn't..." I felt all the worse; almost crippled with guilt. I had said what I had planned to but I felt that I did not feel better at all. In actual fact, I felt worse.

We spent the rest of the time down the stairs in silence and she only spoke as we reached the water.

"I _am _sorry for being late." She said as I began preparing the boat. I looked up at her, speechless. What could I say that would excuse my heinous lie... my heinous _act? _Here she was apologizing to me when_ I_ was in the wrong... and how _wrong _I was. I stood up and faced her and to my surprise she embraced me.

"Please, do not apologize. It was silly of me..."

_Silly of me to murder._

"I should not have overreacted." I wrapped my arms around her. Yes, I was nervous in doing so but I had been craving her embrace since our last parting. "Will you forgive me?"

"I have already forgiven you!" She spoke into my chest, holding me tighter as she did so. I smiled. She had forgiven me for _that _at least...

"I... just feel protective over you."

"I know. I like it... it shows that you care." She said. Yes, but I knew that I had to stop being so protective lest it ruin everything, but I could not help myself. I wanted to be with her every second of every day. But she had been so forgiving... perhaps... if I told her the truth, things wouldn't be as bad as all that?


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry guys! Have been heckin' busy with study and all and also haven't had internet for a while... which makes things difficult! This chap is a bit long but I hope you like it all the same. It's pretty fluffy... but who's complaining? :)

Many thanks for the reviews and do let me know your thoughts. It's hard keeping everyone in character while having to actually develop the characters but hopefully I'm doing a semi-ok job at that.

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

Christine

Most aspects of the journey had been vastly different to what I had remembered; this time the tunnel from my dressing room had been dark and frightening, but Erik had been there to hold my hand. He had even offered to carry me but I was far too embarrassed to accept. The boat ride had been different too, or perhaps I had simply remembered it differently; everything had been romantically lit where, this time it was almost in complete darkness. This time though, Erik talked to me as he pushed the boat. He was even being slightly playful; pretending that he was going to capsize the boat, but I knew that he wouldn't; He took far too much care with his trousers _and _his boots to get them wet.

For the second time, I stepped out of the boat and onto the shore of his home. And, chivalrous as always, he stepped out of the boat before offering me his gloved hand in assistance. In contrast to the rest of the journey, his home was exactly as I had remembered it to be. Candles lined every wall; the melted waxed framed each aspect of his home; every counter, every desk... even his organ. His organ was mesmerizing; the brilliant silver was framed perfectly as everything else was gold; clearly it was the centerpiece of his home, his prized possession. Other walls and surfaces were covered in red velvet and equally lush materials.

"This is beautiful." I said, releasing his hand and standing next to him. My eye caught his bed chamber and suddenly I remembered... I had spent a night in that bed. I blushed as I recalled what I had been wearing. Immediately I walked away from him in an attempt to hide my embarrassment and thankfully he seemed not to notice.

"Thank you." He said modestly, seemingly still focused on what I had said.

The caverns of his home seemed to go on forever, level after level of stone, wax and red velvet stretched on further than I could see. I turned back around to face Erik and stared at him in wonderment. Suddenly, he made sense. He made _so _much sense in this world of his; seemed to fit it perfectly and as his eyes caught mine I was once more lost in the sensual, mysterious, alluring persona that he was.

"Your home is beautiful." I repeated.

_You are beautiful._

"It is just as I remembered."

"I am glad that you are happy here." He said, removing his cape. "I... keep thinking about the last time you were here."

"As do I!" I said excitedly. He looked at me.

"No I mean... the way I treated you. I can't get it out of my mind."

"I told you. It is forgotten! I should _not _have removed your... your mask." That mask... how I desired to know what lay beneath it. But it was not the time. I could _not _do that to him again. He simply smiled at me before looking down and immediately I knew that I should not have brought it up. I walked to him and taking his hands in mine began removing his gloves as I had done the night before. I felt him stiffen as my hands came in contact with his. He was so inexperienced and unused to contact and while it was a heartbreaking concept, I couldn't deny the fact that I was slightly delighted by it. I was the first one to hold his hand. I would be the first one to kiss him... to caress him... and more...

"I missed you today." I said as I held his glove-less hands in my own and stood closer to him. "When I was out with Raoul... everything we did, where we went... I kept thinking about what it would be like with you."

"Don't compare me with..." he began but I silenced him before he had the chance to turn it into another argument.

"I'm _saying _that I wished it was _you!"_ He needed to stop being so sensitive but I knew that I couldn't make such requests of him, not when I knew next to nothing about him or what he had been through. Slowly, I felt him relax and actually tighten his grip on my hands.

"I missed you too. I _always _do when I'm not with you." He said. I looked into his eyes and amid the confusion and anger I saw sincerity and vulnerability. I was beginning to see that _these _were more Erik than anything else. I was beginning to see through his facade. His guard was down when he was with me; his eyes were softer, his voice was quieter, and every now and then I would see him smile. I lived for those moments.

I pulled him into my embrace once more and this time he reacted immediately; he returned it with almost crushing intensity but I dared not say anything. This was too rare a moment. After a few seconds he pulled away and looked at me, almost searching my eyes for something. I knew exactly what he was seeking, what he was asking. Standing up in an attempt to reach his height, I titled my head and closed my eyes. Thankfully he closed the distance; placing a hand on my cheek and hesitantly placing his lips upon mine. For a moment we did not move, each us of us was locked within our own thoughts. I wanted to smile, I wanted to laugh. I had been thinking of this moment for some time but was always too afraid myself. I moved my hands from his waist to the small of his back; reveling in the sensation of being able to feel him beneath my hands.

After a moment he pulled away and the expression on his face broke my heart; his eyes were examining mine with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude and he seemed out of breath even though we had only shared one kiss. I could not help but smile, both at his expression and at what we had just shared. When Erik smiled back I found that I could not suppress a giggle escaping my lips and I could have sworn that I heard the same from him. I placed my hands on the sides of his face and gently pulled his head down so that our foreheads touched. There I stroked the left side of his face with my thumb and as I did so he closed his eyes. I'm not sure that either of us knew how long we were standing there, simply reveling in the presence of one another; the breathing, the warmth. I had never felt _so _utterly contended and I daresay that the feeling was mutual.

"Come." He said; his voice husky just as it had been the first time he had used that word; when he had taken me back to the surface... I hoped he wasn't going to do the same this time. "You must make yourself comfortable while I prepare dinner." He added, pulling away.

"_Dinner?" _Of course, Erik and I _had _made an unspoken plan to share a meal tonight but I was in shock all the same. "Erik you don't have to do that!" I thought it prudent not to mention the fact that I had already eaten...

"I insist. It is the least I can do. You eat chicken, I assume?"

"Yes... I do but, don't put yourself through any trouble for me, please." Then I would feel even _worse. _

"Too late." He said, walking away from me with a smirk on his face. "I have already started walking towards the kitchen."

I followed him, wondering where the kitchen actually was. Cooking seemed a strange thought in contrast to where he lived and I had never even considered this aspect of his life. Every few moments I was reminded of where I was and was flooded with a mixture of both fear and wonderment.

When I entered he had removed his jacket and was rolling up his sleeves.

"Christine." He said; more a statement than a question. "Come to watch me make a mess, have you?" He smiled.

"Kitchen..." I gawped. "You... have a kitchen." I looked around. The decor of the room matched that of the rest of his living quarters. The counter tops looked as if they were made of stone, candelabras lined the walls, giving the area a most romantic glow. A wooden table was situated in the centre of the room surrounded by chairs; the upholstery of which matched the rest of his decor.

"Of course I have a kitchen." He scoffed. "What did you think I ate?"

"I... No, of course. It's just that all of your rooms are... so well hidden."

"It is alright. I take your meaning. Why I have so many chairs... I will never know. It is not as if I entertain often." He laughed mirthlessly.

"I didn't mean to cause offence..."

"You have caused nothing of the sort. Please." He said, pulling a chair out and gesturing for me to sit.

"Thank you." I said, accepting his hospitality. "So... what is on the menu? If you don't mind my asking..."

"Not at all." He replied; his eyes intent on the task before him, which was currently the chopping of shallots. "Coq au vin. That is quite alright with you, isn't it? I'm sorry, I should have asked..."

"No! It's fine. It sounds delicious."I said. He smiled and turned back to his shallots. I stared at the back of him as he cooked and could not help but grin at the strange sight before me. This mystery of a man was cooking me dinner... and stranger still, he looked quite comfortable with what he was doing. "Do you cook often?"

"I... wouldn't say often." He replied; throwing the shallots into a pot he had set to boil. "There is only me to cater for and I usually find that I am sated with very little. I read a lot though and I have studied cooking. I've never had anyone to cook for. This is nice." He said, turning to me. "Would you like some wine?"

"Yes alright." I said. "If you are having some, that is."

Dusting his hands he selected a bottle from his wine rack and opened it. I had never seen someone operate a cork screw so expertly. He seemed to excel in everything he did...

"Thank you." I smiled as he handed me a glass.

"They say that it is inappropriate to drink red wine with chicken but... in my experience it is _never _inappropriate to drink red wine."

"Is that so?" I smiled. "I don't drink much wine at all."

"No. I don't imagine that you do. There isn't any harm in it... _unless_ it's before a performance. You must _never _drink alcohol before a performance, Christine. Do you understand? It isn't good for the vocal chords..."

I nodded. It amazed me that he could still have such power over me... even in such a domestic setting and after we had become so well acquainted. Perhaps that would never change.

* * *

Soon, he was done cooking.

"Voila!" He said, setting the meal down before me. I stared down at it in delight. I hadn't had a meal like this in weeks. Things had been so busy for me with rehearsals that when I finally got a chance to have dinner, everyone else had already finished and I had to be satisfied with bread or fruit...

"It looks delicious, Erik. Thank you."

"Go ahead." He said as he sat down across from me and took a sip from his wine glass. I looked across at him and noticed that he had neglected to serve himself.

"Are you not eating?"

"No. I'm not very hungry." He smiled and folded his arms across his chest. "I made it for you! Enjoy!"

"You cooked this all for _me? _I feel terrible! I told you not to go through so much trouble!"

"Christine, please. Seeing you enjoy a meal that I made for you is much more satisfying. I will eat later if I hunger."

I stared down at the beautifully prepared and arranged meal before me, guilt clouding my every thought. How could I possibly enjoy this by myself? Suddenly, I became aware of the reasoning behind his decision and cursed my ignorance.

"It's... the mask, isn't it?" I asked apprehensively. His eyes narrowed slightly.

"...What?"

"The mask. You can't eat because of it. It's true, is it not?"

He sighed and took another sip from his claret wine.

"Christine, are you not going to enjoy the meal I prepared for you?" He asked calmly.

"Just take it off, Erik. Really..."

"Don't ask that of me."

"I'm not... I'm simply saying that if it serves to be a hindrance and you _want _to eat, then take it off."

"I would not subject you to that. Please, leave it."

"I'd like to enjoy a meal _with _you, Erik."

"Christine..."

"Please..?"

He looked up at me, his eyes pleading for my understanding and my patience when I could see that _his_ was wearing thin with every word he spoke.

"I cannot..." He began, leaning forward. "Will you not eat your meal?"

I sighed and realizing that I could not push it any further, I decided to eat.

"I will eat." I smiled. With that he seemed to relax and sit back in his chair once more. He did not speak on the matter but I could see gratitude in his eyes. I needed to earn his trust... and I was more than willing to.

The meal wasn't perfect but I loved the fact that he had made it for me. Upon taking my first bite I could see him watching me intently; waiting for my verdict. I could not help but smile and tell him that it _was_ perfect.

* * *

"Thank you for that." I said after I had finished the meal. "I really appreciate you taking the time, the effort to do something like this."

"I would do _anything_ for you." He said; his gaze intense.

I did not know what to say. The intensity of his glare threatened to sap me of any ability to speak, to think coherently. If he knew that he was making me uncomfortable, he would have turned away. But I didn't dare say anything, his temperament seemed so fragile and I feared that if he were to doubt himself in any way, he would withdraw within himself and the evening would be ruined. I wanted to know more of this man I was beginning to discover.

His gaze did not falter. Each time I ventured a glance up at him, he was looking at me; looking _through _me, _seeing _me. And perhaps part of me didn't _want _him to turn away. Perhaps part of me felt somehow comforted; sated in the ferocity of his gaze. Perhaps I wanted to stare back him. What was he thinking? What thoughts were crossing that brilliant mind of his? Just when I was about to look up again; about to meet his gaze, he spoke.

"What would you like to do, Christine?" He asked as he took another sip from his wine.

"...Do?" I faltered. I was having trouble focusing on his words now that I had lost his gaze.

"Yes, _do." _He smiled. He stood and pushed his chair back before slowly walking to me and looking at me with those _eyes _once more... "We can do whatever you wish. _Anything." _He held out his hand and, as before, I took it.

"I don't know..." I said, standing up. Truly, I _didn't_ know. Of course I wanted to spend time with Erik but I knew next to nothing about him. How did he spend _his _time? How to begin? How did one spend their time with the Opera Ghost...?

"Show me your home?" I offered.

"As you wish." He said.

We began with what Erik called his '_art corner'_.

"It's amazing. I didn't notice _anything _when I was last here..." I walked up to one of his desks which was littered with abject crafting materials, paintbrushes and scraps of paper. "You have so many desks..." I remarked.

"Yes." He spoke from behind me. I could feel his warm breath on my neck and at that moment I wanted him to disregard the question and simply hold me. "...One for painting, one for drafting, one simply for sketching and... one for business."

A smirk hinted at my lips as I was reminded of his '_business.'_

"What is... drafting?" I asked; perplexed.

"Architectural drafting... drawing..." He replied, a smile in his voice. I turned to him, awestruck.

"You are _so_ talented!"

He stared at me, a slight smile on his lips. I couldn't decipher whether it was one of vanity or unease from being complimented. Perhaps it was both. I took his hand in mine and continued to explore his world. A number of paintings and sketches were hung from the surrounding walls.

"These... are incredible! Look!" I pointed to one sketch excitedly. "That is l'Arc de Triompe! And the Sienne! And..." I paused as I pulled one painting down from the wall.

It was me.

As soon as I had set eyes on the painting it was snatched from my grasp.

"Hey! Erik! Give it back!" I said; irritated.

"No. You shouldn't have seen that." He said. "I'm sorry... I don't know what you must think."

"It is fine, honestly." I said, my hand on his shoulder. "I just want to see it."

"No, I don't think so. Let's do something else, Christine. How does that sound? Do you like to read? I have a small library over here." He stashed the painting beneath several loose sheets of paper on his desk and began pulling me in the opposite direction.

"You're changing the subject." I said, allowing him to lead me.

"Yes. I am." He admitted.

"Then let me see it!" I smiled.

"Later, alright?" He sighed. "I will let you see it later."

"Alright." I grinned.

"Actually." He began, leading me to a small space next to his organ. "You wait here. I will choose something for you. Make yourself comfortable."

Did he know me that well already? Perhaps he did... if that painting was any indication. I _knew _what it was... I had seen in clearly before he'd gotten the chance to remove it from my sight but if anything, I was flattered. I was aware of the reservations he had in showing me such a thing; admitting his feelings... I just wished that there was a way of convincing him that it was all right to feel such a way. That it was indeed mutual...

The small space was padded with numerous rugs and cushions and with the surrounding candle light I had to actively resist the urge to fall asleep where I was. Erik's presence was so soothing.

"You might like this..." He began, walking over to me with a book in his hand.

"What is it?" I asked curiously, sitting up. Erik sat down next to me on the rug and handed it to me. I read the title:

_Scandinavian Folk Lore. _

"Erik!" I gasped excitedly. "My father used to have this book!" He smiled warmly.

"Did he?"

"Yes..." I said, absentmindedly flicking through the pages. "He used to read it to me..."

"Keep it." He said. I looked up at him again.

"What?"

"Keep it." He repeated. "I can see how much it means to you."

"_Erik_." I said, overcome with emotion. "_Thank you!" _I wrapped my arms around him and as he slowly returned my embrace, the book was momentarily forgotten... everything was.

"You are very welcome." He said.

_"_How did you know?" I asked, looking up at him.

"I didn't." He said, staring at the book. "I never knew your father Christine, remember? It is purely coincidence."

"...Yes..." I continued flicking through the book with glee until after a few moments I realized that Erik's arm was still around my shoulder and that he was quite comfortably leaning over me, reading along with me. I wanted to say something; to reassure him in some way so that he would not remove his arm, so that he did not move away.

"This is so lovely." I said quietly. He did not respond.

"Now..." I added.

"What?" He asked, confused. "Now _what?"_

"It's something I used to say as a child. Whenever a moment was absolutely perfect, I would say _'now'_... It meant that _that _was the moment I would come back to... to relive or revisit if I ever had the chance. Perhaps I felt that it was immortalized just by me saying the word." I laughed quietly. I wanted him to know that this was one of those moments. We were sitting together, reading a book... I was wrapped in his warmth; in his embrace... It was perfect. It was perfectly _real_ and perfectly _normal _and it felt_ right._

Again, he did not speak. He simply placed a soft, hesitant kiss on my temple and I could not help but smile. I was aware of how difficult it was for him to perform such simple acts for he had had no experience. I had had very little myself, but I had been in social situations where I bore witness to such things and I had become well adjusted to them. He also feared rejection at all costs. I wanted to say something; to tell him that I wanted him to do it again but I stayed silent, knowing that if I mentioned it in any way, his embarrassment would likely prevent him from doing such a thing again. However, I was well aware that my smile was visible. Slowly I turned to face him and found that he was staring at me with nothing but adoration. Clearly, he had been moved by what I had said.

"You would choose this as one of your moments?" He asked. His blue eyes searching mine as he was only inches from me. I reached up and stroked the left side of his face with my hand, allowing it to trail down his neck to touch the skin usually covered by his cravat...

"I would choose _you._" I whispered, relishing in the sensation of his warm skin against my own; skin I had not yet touched or even seen before tonight...

It was only when I looked up at him did I become fully aware of the gravity of what I had just said, and the affect it had on him. He had tears in his eyes and he was staring at me with an expression on his face that was somewhere between confusion and adoration. I felt him inhale as I ran my hand back up his neck and gently pulled him towards me.

I was convinced that for the second time, our lips would meet...

And then... He said something strange.

"Yes."

"Yes...? Yes, what..?" I was slightly frustrated at his timing. "What are you talking about, Erik?"

"Yes... to your question earlier." He said, looking down.

"What question?" Then, part of me understood. I had asked him many questions through the course of the night but for some reason I knew to which one he was referring... I felt sick. My chest tightened and I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry for what had been so beautiful, so perfect... for my _angel; _For Erik... I was hoping against all hope that I had it wrong... that it had to be something else. But part of me knew... part of me had always known.

I had asked him about Buquet.

* * *

**Let me know what you think, friends! **


	10. Chapter 10

A short one, but needfully so :)

Thank you to those reading this! Please let me know what you think.

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

As soon as I had committed the act of murder I had convinced myself of how I would handle things if Christine were to question me. I would lie; deny it all. Then, I knew the affect it would have on what was, beyond my wildest expectations beginning to become a real friendship... courtship. As soon as I had committed the crime I had regretted it; not for the sake of my victim, no; for the sake of Christine. The truth would destroy everything I had built with her... But now, as she was staring at me; looking into my eyes with complete ignorant sincerity... telling me that she chose _me! Chose me! _ I could not deny her the truth. I owed it to her. As much as it would break my heart and hers I had to tell her.

"Yes." I said. I could not lie to her. She was too perfect; too pure.

"Yes...? Yes, what..?" She pulled away from me and smiled. "What are you talking about, Erik?"

"Yes... to your question earlier." I said.

"What question?" She asked; eyes now questioning me. Reluctantly I stood up and took a step backwards.

"You... you asked me... earlier... don't you remember?"

"What... are you talking about?" she repeated. She asked the question again but part of me could sense that she already knew to what I was referring...

"You asked me about Buquet." I said, almost forcing the words out through gritted teeth. "My answer is yes." Finally, the recognition painted on her face brought tears to my eyes, for I knew that this was the end.

"But... wait..." She closed her book and sat up. Purposefully inching away from me.

"Look, Christine..." Immediately I had regretted my choice. Honesty had never gotten me anywhere, why would it now?

"Wait, wait... my question. Surely you aren't answering 'yes' to my question...Yes? What... am I hearing..?"

"Christine, please..."

"No... Erik, tell me that you aren't saying what I think you are? _Tell _me!"

"I..." I wished that I could. I wanted nothing more than for this to be a lie... one big joke just as my life had been. "I... _can't_" I managed, my voice breaking with emotion. "_Please..."_

"Erik... no." She said, standing up and shaking her head in disbelief. "_No!"_

"_Please!_ Just listen to my reasoning!" I begged, walking towards her. I could see that she was beginning to weep and I wanted nothing more than to hold her but I knew that she would not allow it. Who _would _want to be comforted by a murderer?

"Reasoning? What reasoning could there be for... _murder_?" She said the last word with such venom that I felt my stomach turn and she stepped back as soon as she had uttered the word aloud.

"You don't _know_ that man, Christine. I had seen him spying on me; watching me! I cannot have people seeing me. Do you understand? I had almost caught him when..."

"...When I found you." She looked down as she finished my sentence for me, still shaking her head.

"Yes" I said.

_Yes... You stopped me. _

_You saved his life._

_You... prolonged his life._

"Dear god. You took his life because he _saw _you, Erik?"

"That isn't_ all_, Christine!" I said, stepping towards her once more. A piece of me broke inside when she intentionally moved away from me... "He spies on you _and _the rest of the ballet de corps, he was... he was a letch!"

"And so he had to die? What gives you the right to take someone's life, Erik?"

"_Right?!" _How dare she?

"Yes!"

"_I had every right!"_ My voice echoed through the caverns.

"_Did _you? And what of _his _rights? Who gives _you _the right to decide?" She asked, now walking toward me and pointing an accusatory finger in my direction.

"_His _rights?! Why does _he _have rights?!" I was becoming increasingly defensive. "How is it that he can be allowed rights... such simple rights; the right to live, unhindered, the right to walk among the living..." I looked down. "...A right to a mate... How is he allowed these rights when _I _am denied them? Can you answer me that, Christine? I give _myself_ the right to decide who lives and who dies... and why should I not? Do you think that _God _should decide? Why does _he _have the right? I have no God, Christine. God abandoned _me _when he cursed me with this!" I gestured to my mask, forgetting that she was ignorant to what lay beneath it."

She stared at me, momentarily silenced by what she had heard.

"Who _are _you?" She asked, visibly weeping.

"Me..?" I stepped toward her again, my anger melting away at the sight of her tears. I needed to hold her... I needed to feel her in my arms at least once more before she banished me; sent me back to darkness. "_I... I am the same person, Christine! I am... me!" _I took her hand and placed it on my chest but she snatched it away. "_Christine... I am still Erik! Nothing has changed!"_

_"Everything _has changed."

"Don't say that... please! He... could have hurt you, Christine... He could have hurt you and what then? That, I could not forgive. Did you honestly feel _safe _around him?" I asked.

"Well, I don't feel safe around you!" She replied. At these words I staggered backward; I felt as though a thin, cold blade had punctured my chest and remained there, burning...

"You... what?"

"I don't. I don't feel safe. Will you... will you take me back please?"

_"Don't say that! Christine... _I would_ never _hurt you_! _You _know _that!" I reached out for her hand only to have her pull away from me once more.

"Please..." She begged. What was she doing?

"You... you think I would _hurt_ you?" I dropped to my knees before her. "I would sooner _die_ than see you come to harm! You... how could you think such a thing of me?"

"Please take me back." She repeated, shrinking back.

_"You need not fear me, Môn ange!" _I cried.

"Won't you take me back?" A lone tear trailed down her cheek. She would not even look at me.

"I..." What was I doing? Why was I begging? If she wanted me to take her back, I would. There was no use in her being with me if it was against her will... She would only come to fear me more and I couldn't stand for her to treat me like this. It was breaking my heart. "Yes, of... of course if you wish for me to take you back, I will..."

"Thank you." She breathed, still not meeting my gaze. It was always the same... I had only ever evoked two emotions from people; fear or disgust. I suppose disgust would have been worse...

"Christine... I..." I reached for her once more but she shrunk away from my touch. I stood up, tears in my eyes and my heart in pieces. "I would _not _hurt you... please _know_ that."

"I don't know anything about you..." She said, finally looking at me.

I stared at her then, doing my best to keep my emotion in check. Perhaps she hated me... I had been right, but I _would _have my dignity. She would not take that from me. I _would _cry. I would lose myself in the depths of despair. I would tear myself apart from the inside out... But she would not see it. She would not. Part of me wanted to hate her for the way she was acting; wanted to admonish her for reacting in such a way to what I had done, wanted to loathe her for making me feel like I did. But I was a murderer. Her reaction was only natural. She deserved to hate me... How could I justify what I had done by telling her that he was a bad person and that her life was in danger around him? As true as these things were, nothing excused what I had done. I _would _take her back. I would take her back and leave her be. It would be like we had never even met.

* * *

We didn't speak as we traveled back to the surface. She tried her best not to make eye contact with me and when she did by accident, she quickly looked away. _That _I was used to... I wanted to scream apologies, I wanted to weep, to beg her to forgive me but I knew that it would not help. I had lost her. As terrible as the journey was, I relished being in her company for I knew that soon it would end. Soon I would be condemned to my black solitude once more and the dream I had been permitted to live would be at an end.

As we neared the end of the spiral staircase, it became too much to bear. It felt as though I was wounding her, tainting her just by being in her presence and I knew that I had to leave. I could feel her fear and it was breaking me. I needed to get back to my home. Back to where I belonged...

"You know your way from here, I trust." I said, halting a few steps behind her.

She stopped and glanced down at me.

"...Yes." For the first time since my confession she deliberately made eye contact with me. I did not look away and as I felt tears stinging my eyes, I saw them begin to well up in hers.

"Christine...I..." I began to speak but decided against it. I took a deep breath and lifting my cape slightly I turned and started back down the stairs.

I did not look back. It tore me apart but I did not look back.


	11. Chapter 11

Hiya! So yes, extended delay with updating i know. And i know that everyone on here says that but I am usually pretty prompt. So, many sorries. I literally have had to design a campaign and it is not even finished yet and the creative process is slowly killing my life. On top of that there is work and design contract work and of course... must allow time for procrastination. Such an important part of the design process. Hashtag designerlyf. ANYWAY.

Thank you for your support and for waiting so long!

Let me know what you think of this chap!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber and_ Christine_ in an ideal Phan universe.

* * *

Christine

Everything _had _changed. I had gone from feeling incredibly safe and tranquil in his presence to being nothing short of terrified. He told me that he would never hurt me... and part of me believed him, but how could I be sure? All he had done since our first meeting was_ lie_ to me or at the very least mislead me. I didn't really know _who _he was and suddenly I was extremely anxious at the idea of being underneath the Opera; a place where no one could find me if they tried... with a man who was a self-confessed murderer. Had there been others? He seemed remorseful but he spoke of his actions _so_ casually which only served to heighten my fear. Was Erik even his name? How could I trust _anything_ he told me about himself? I cursed myself for being so foolish. I had gone in blindly; simply given myself to him; mind, body and spirit. Each day, all I could think about was counting down the minutes until I could see him again and now...

He had shattered me.

He had shattered me completely and broken my trust.

I asked for him to take me back to my world and, like the gentleman I had always known him to be, he obliged. But the look in his eyes when I spoke those words made me want to reconsider. I was so torn. I had such strong feelings for this man whom I hardly knew... I wanted to spend every second I could with him but now I was terrified and I couldn't see past that. I knew that by asking to leave I was breaking his heart... but he had broken mine.

I had expected him to walk me to my dressing room as he had always done and part of me was slightly saddened when he opted to leave me on the staircase. I suppose he thought that I preferred it that way, or perhaps it was a move of self preservation... I didn't know.

He was going to say something. He called my name and I stared at him, awaiting his words... something, anything that might mend what was broken between us. Our eyes locked together and I could _see _his anguish. He was battling with himself just as I was. And then... nothing. He picked up his cape and walked away, leaving me on the staircase staring after him. I don't know what I expected; He had already apologized and I had not accepted, but seeing him walk away was one of the hardest things I'd had to do. I thought of calling after him but what would I say? What _could _I say that would fix what he had done or to fix how I felt about it? After a few moments, I turned and walked in the opposite direction. I did not look back.

I took one of the torches off the wall and made my way down the dark corridor to my dressing room. Before dousing the flame I turned to look behind me, almost expecting to see someone; to say good night to someone, to say farewell to someone. But there was no one there... All I could see was my own breath in the blackness. I entered my dressing room and closed the door. When I was finally inside, I fell to the ground with my back to the mirror and wept.

After several minutes, I pulled myself together. I told myself that I was crying for someone I hardly knew. That I was crying for a murder. I was doing everything I could to convince myself that my fear was grounded, that I had made the right choice in leaving him. But then why did it hurt so much? Why could I not stop the emotion overpowering my every thought... every action? Eventually I made my way to my sleeping quarters. When I got there I was both surprised and elated to find that Meg was waiting for me.

"Well, where did you go!? I've been waiting for you!"

"Shhh!" One of the other girls called from another cot.

"Oh, you shh!" She spat.

I sat down on my bed quietly.

"It doesn't matter." I said, hardly looking at her. I found myself hoping that I had convincingly wiped the emotion from my face and the tears from my eyes before she had seen me.

"What? _What_ doesn't matter?" She whispered. "You said you would tell me, Christine! When you left before you..."

I did not respond.

"Are you alright?" She asked, touching my arm.

I said nothing, but when I looked up at her, the tears had broken through once more. I could hide my emotion no longer.

_"Christine..." _She pulled me into an embrace. As soon as I was in her arms, I wept unabashedly. I _had _promised to keep it all a secret, but how could I? It was tearing me up inside.

"What's wrong?" She whispered.

_"I... I don't know if I can tell you..."_ I managed through sobs.

"Of course you can! You can tell me anything! Christine... what has upset you so?"

I looked up at my best friend. Her eyes were beseeching me to tell her everything, to tell her who had harmed me in such a way. But could I? How could I tell her that instead of seeing Raoul, I had been seeing another man who had broken my heart? That my heart was in fact broken by none other than the Opera Ghost? And it was broken because it was _he_ who was responsible for the murder she had told me about only hours before. Could I trust her with such information? I sniffed and wiped my eyes.

"Come outside?" I offered, knowing that _if _I was going to divulge my secrets, it couldn't very well be in the presence of the whole chorus and anyone else who so chose to eavesdrop. Meg nodded and followed me out of the room. What was I doing?

"Alright, now tell me, Christine!" She said. I looked around me cautiously...

I looked up...

Erik wouldn't like the idea of me sharing this information but something told me that for once, he was not listening. Something told me that he was in his home... deep below the Opera. Deep down where I had left him.

"I... I really don't know if I should..." I sniffed again.

"If something is bothering you, I need to know what it is. We are best friends... are we not?"

I smiled. Yes, we were. And If Madame Giry was trustworthy, her daughter would be too.

I began to tell her and I could see the level of concern in her eyes rising with each minute that passed.

"Christine... The Opera Ghost?" I was surprised that that was all she could say. Of course, I could see why that was the most shocking part...

"I told you, I did not know that he was The Opera Ghost when I first met him... my feelings just grew and..." I sighed and looked up at the ceiling; as if in some way, hoping that he could hear me. "I put him on such a pedestal that when I learned of the truth, my heart was broken. Even now, I don't know whether I left him for fear or for... some misplaced sense of betrayal."

"Well... you had every right to be afraid."

"But... I don't think that he would hurt me, Meg. I don't..."

She looked down at her hands.

"But do you _know _that?" She smiled as her nostalgia overcame her concern and she held my hand in excitement. "Do you remember how afraid we used to be when we were children? Maman used to tell us that the Opera Ghost would get us if we didn't practice."

I laughed in spite of myself. I thought about mentioning the fact that her mother was quite well acquainted with the Opera Ghost but decided against it. I didn't know how she would react and I had had enough confrontation for one night.

"Meg. Those were only stories..."

"I know." She smiled.

"If only you knew what he was really like..." I sighed and stared into the darkness.

"I don't know... from what you tell me, he seems to care a lot for you. But, like you say... you don't really know him at all. The person who you grew to love may not have been him..."

"But that's the thing, Meg!" I held her hands in desperation. "It was _him! _I could still see Erik in those pleading eyes. And... even though he knew what he had done, it was as if he was asking me _why _I was saying such hurtful things, _why _I was leaving him. It was unbearable..."

"I... don't know what to tell you, Christine." She said. "You have to do what your heart tells you. Perhaps... give it a few days and see how you feel."

"I _know _how I feel..."

"About... the situation I mean." She smiled faintly.

Of course. I already_ knew_ how I felt about _him. _

"We should sleep." She said. "We can discuss it more tomorrow if you'd like."

"Yes. You are right. I'm quite exhausted. Thank you, Meg." I turned and embraced her. She held me tightly and I found that I didn't want her to let go. I still had so much on my mind and I could not see the person who usually talked me through my problems.

I used to fall asleep knowing that the next day I would speak to my Angel of Music. I took comfort in that. Then I fell asleep knowing that I would see Erik the next day... But as I lay down and my head hit the pillow I knew that when I woke up, I would not be doing either of those things. I would _not _see him and I didn't know when or even if I would again.

* * *

Erik

It felt as though my heart had been ripped out of my body and by the time I reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, I had to steady myself as the pain in my chest became too great. I leaned against the wall and began to inhale deeply. What was happening? This was real pain I was feeling... wasn't it? I slid to the ground with my hand to my heart and closed my eyes.

Christine.

I would never see her again.

If it was the right thing to do, why was it so painful?

The ache came in waves, from my stomach and up into my throat. It threatened to suffocate me; the grief. Slowly I stood up. I could not lose myself here. Not yet. I could not come undone until I was in the sanctity of my own home. No one could take that from me.

With great difficulty I made it across the lake, eagerly jumping out of my boat and finding myself knee deep in water. I did not care. I could not even feel the cold. I ripped my cloak from my shoulders followed by my jacket and discarded them haphazardly. They fell soundlessly into the lake. As I waded to the shore of my home I ripped my mask from my face and flung it as far as I could. I did not know where it landed. Nor did I care. I didn't make it past the shore line. I collapsed to my knees in the puddle-deep water and held my head in my hands.

Why? Why had I done this to myself? To her?

And then, as if on cue, the tears came. I could not stop them, nor did I care to. This was the first time I had wept as a grown man... and I felt no better than that seven year old boy I once was... I wept until the pain in my chest was replaced with a dull throb in my head. After minutes of despair ceaselessly wreaking havoc on my body, draining me of everything that i had, I got to my feet and looked around. A cynical chuckle escaped my lips as I surveyed my home.

_Home_

What _home?_ This was a cave and nothing more. It was a tomb! How could I ever think that someone like Christine would want to stay with me in this tomb when she could be above, living the life she deserved? Suddenly, everything I looked upon was a reminder of _her; _of what I had done to her. Every object I saw reminded me of what I was...

Of what she had done to me... What she had made me become...

She had made me into _Erik_. A person. A man...

I was Erik once, long ago. And all that name brought to me was pain...

It had done it once more... that _name. _

I would be Erik no longer. If a Ghost; a criminal... a murder is what they wanted, that is what I would give them.

Smiling manically I picked up a candelabrum from my mantelpiece and threw it violently into each and every mirror I could see. A ghost did not need mirrors, did he? I turned to my left. A ghost did not need drapes either, did he? I dropped the candelabrum and picked up my sword. I slashed at my drapes with all that I had and did the same with my drawings that hung from the wall. I stumbled from each of my work stations, destroying everything that I had created; everything she had seen, touched, commented on. Everything but my music...

My sword dropped exhaustedly from my grasp and fell to the stone floor with a dull clang, and there it stayed along with the remnants of who I was.

* * *

Christine

I did not see Erik for weeks. Meg and I did not speak about him after that. She would ask me if I was alright every now and then or ask me if I had heard from him but I always responded with a simple nod or a shake of the head. I spent more time with Raoul and we became as close as we once were. It was a relief to have someone to talk to, even though I could not voice what I most desperately wanted to. The things that troubled me most I could not tell anyone save for Meg and her mother, and the time never seemed right to speak about it. I wanted desperately to speak with Madame Giry, to ask if she had seen him... to ask how he was. But I did not.

And as the days wore on, my confusion grew. If I was so frightened by him, why did I feel such a need to see him? Why did I feel such an absence now that he was not in my life? Every now and then I would call for him... just softly, so that no one else could hear me. As a child, when I would call for him in such a way he would never fail to answer me. I would hear his velvety voice emanate from somewhere above the chapel and envelop me in its warmth. But now, I received no response. I could not even_ feel_ him around... as if he were not watching at all. As I became more desperate to hear from him, I began to think back to that night; to his reasoning. No, there was no excusing what he had done but he _had_ done it to protect me and I _would_ admit that I did _not _feel safe when Buquet was around... Part of me did not want to think about any of it. I just wanted to see him. I wanted it to be like it was... Even if it went back to how it was before I had _seen _him, back to the way it was when he was my Angel and nothing more. Anything would have been better than this... This solitude.

It was so strange performing with no one to perform to. Yes, I got certain satisfaction out of the applause I received but I knew that the one person I was performing for was not listening. After each aria I would stare up into the rafters with a smile before I was reminded of what had last occurred there and why no one was watching down on me.

I _had _been spending time with Raoul. He had truly saved me from myself and without him I feel that the time without Erik would have been unbearable. He had mentioned engagement once after our first dinner and I had simply shrugged it off by telling him that I was not yet ready to think on it. However I knew that it was only a matter of time before he brought it up again and I knew that he would want an answer. I did not know what to tell him; that I was already courting someone but that I had not seen him I weeks? It was absurd.

In a way I did love Raoul, only not in the way that he loved me and I did not want to marry him, although it seemed the right thing to do. But I could I could not _deny_ him... I needed his company; his companionship more than I needed marriage. He was my life-raft in the harsh sea that was Erik's forced solitude and though it was selfish, I knew that the only way to keep him around me was to avoid his proposal for as long as I could. Soon though, I would either have to deny or accept. I would have to deny him and have him leave my side forever, or i would have to accept and be sated with... what little I felt for him. Perhaps true love did not exist? Love that shone so bright that you were blinded to anything or anyone else around you. Affection so warm that you could feel it around you even when he who had caused it had long but left... Perhaps marriage was made of simple love, understanding, companionship... friendship. Yes, it was only a matter of time before Raoul demanded an answer and I just hoped that I would be able to speak to Erik before that time came.

Il Muto continued and after a week or so, I was the Pageboy once more and La Carlotta was returned to her throne... and her dressing room. I did not know any other way of getting to Erik's home and soon realized that I would either have to break in to La Carlotta's room or put my pride and embarrassment aside and make the time to speak to Madame Giry.

"Christine... I do not wish to interfere in your affairs. I most _certainly_ do not wish to interfere in _his _and you would do well to be just as cautious..."

"But you do know a way in, do you not? Erik told me that you visited him..."

"He did..?"

"Yes." I smiled, thinking back fondly on the memory and how he and I had laughed... "So, you must help me. I have to see him, Madame." Madame Giry sighed and took my hand.

"As much as this may hurt you, Christine... if you have not heard from him, it is because he has intentionally kept away. Often, he goes missing for months at a time... sometimes years. I have not heard from him in weeks and after what you described, I don't know that he will be open to visitors. I know you think that you know him but do not forget who he is..."

"I _know _who he is; he would not hurt me, Madame. He would not hurt either of us..."

She took my hands in her own as we sat together on her divan.

"I don't know... I don't know what to do. I know that you wish to see him but... It is not safe. Even with the correct guidance you could find yourself in danger."

"He wouldn't..."

"Not him, my child. He has various traps set throughout the passages leading to his home."

"Oh..." I said in disappointment. He really didn't want any visitors... None at all. I looked down at my hands and as they had done so many times over the past weeks, my eyes began to fill with tears.

After a moment of silence, Madame Giry spoke.

"Alright." She said. I looked up at her in disbelief.

"What?"

"I will tell you where to go. I cannot bear to see you in such despair..."

"Thank you Madame!" I embraced her. "Thank you!"

"But are you sure that you want to? Really want to? After... what you know about him?"

"Yes. I have to see him." I said. Thoughts crossed my mind about how Madame Giry had not been surprised upon discovering Erik's confession, but i decided not to voice them. Exactly how much _did _she know about him? And why had she not told me? I pushed the nagging questions to the back of my mind. All i could think about was seeing _him_ and for the first time in weeks, i could not stop smiling. Madame Giry sighed and worry flashed across her eyes. But finally she had resigned herself to the fact that she could not convince me otherwise.

"It will be dangerous!" She warned.

"I will be safe." I reassured her.

"Alright... Alright... Well go and get dressed before I become aware of my foolishness and change my mind. Before you leave I will give you the map he gave to me many years ago. You must pay very careful attention to each and every detail, Christine! Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes! Of course!" I answered before hastily standing up and leaving the room.

It was late at night and the Opera was deserted. I was surprised to find that Madame Giry's secret entrance to Erik's abode did not reside anywhere in her own room. It was a small door in a corridor just off the Grand Foyer; almost disguised as a pillar from one perspective until you approached it. Madame Giry embraced me tightly, wished me luck and handed me her map. I allowed myself the sensation of the rough paper stock between my fingers before donning my gloves. I smiled.

Erik had once owned this paper...

She opened the small door for me and held me gently by the shoulders.

"Take this key." She said. "This is just a service cupboard as I am sure you have noticed but it will take you where you need to go if you follow that map. Alright?" I nodded in understanding. "There is a very small trap door right at the end of this space. That key in your hand opens the lock. After that, stick to the map. Please, Christine. If nothing else. Stick to the map."

"I will" I promised after listening carefully. She embraced me once more before handing me a lamp.

Then she left. I entered the small utility space and locked the door behind me.

I smiled to myself in the darkness. I would see Erik. After weeks I would see him...

But would he want to see me?

* * *

**So, i saw this mysterious door when i went to the Garnier last year. Well... it was only a fire door but it was next to what appeared to be quite a new wall put up. Modern plaster and wallpaper. I thought it was a bit strange; an area completely closed off and so, being a Phan of course my first thought was:**

**ERIK.**

**A girl can dream. So, i thought why not use it in this story? :)**

**Again, apologies for the delay. Please Review! Let me know what you think of this chapter. Does it work?**


	12. Chapter 12

I really enjoyed writing this chapter! And it has been a long time coming. Apologies for that. As per my other story update I have been SO busy with design work and my music; I have been in the studio and as any musicians out there know, it is both time consuming and exhausting... but fun :). AND i got an internship. SO, YAY. Thank you for the kind reviews! They have been very helpful and motivational. Let me know what you think as always :)

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

Erik

I poured a glass of Merlot and walked over to my organ; stepping over pieces of what were once much loved artworks, items of furniture, god knows what else. I sat down at my organ. The glass was used; they all were. My home had been in disrepair since the night Christine had left and it appeared that I had destroyed all but one glass in my rampage. I did not bother to wash it. It had become something of a habit over the past few weeks. Not something to be proud of but I suppose that it is something else to add to that list. My clothes were disheveled, as was I. My usually pristine appearance had been sullied by my own carelessness but what did it matter? Who was there to judge me; to _see _me?

At least one good thing had come of this. I had had time to concentrate on my music. I had begun to compose a new opera; something unlike anything I had ever done or even heard. I would... coerce the company into performing it, and perhaps I would even cast myself as the lead! Imagine that! I laughed to myself and was about to take a sip of the burgundy miracle elixir and lose myself once more when I heard a bell; my alarm.

I scratched my unshaven chin, perplexed. That particular bell had been for my water catchment trap. Who could it be? My eyes widened as the worst possible answer to that question flooded my thoughts. I dropped my wine glass and the liquid covered my leg and the piano bench beneath it but I hardly noticed.

Christine.

What if it was Christine?

I picked up my sword from where it lay discarded on the ground, in case it was someone else. Taking nothing else, I rushed from my home and hastily made my way to where I hoped I would not find Christine. I would never be able to forgive myself. With each passing second I became increasingly aware that Christine had triggered the alarm. The only other person who knew their way in was Madame Giry, and she would not make such a mistake. I ran through the caverns, praying to a higher power that she would be alright; that I would get there in time. Finally I reached the edge of the water to see the wrought-iron gate slowly lowering with Christine underneath it.

What was she doing here!?

Her head was still above water.

Thank god.

"Erik!" She called. I felt my chest tighten as she looked at me with those eyes; a mixture of relief and desperation. They beckoned me to help her; to save her. What if I could not?

Knowing that there was no time to spare I threw my sword down and began to pull at the lever next to me.

It did not abate. The gate was lowering still.

"Erik." She called once more.

I felt my heart beating faster than it ever had. I pulled with all my might and when I saw her head submerge I became violent with desperation.

One breath.

One breath was all it took for her lungs to be filled with water and would be the end. She would drown. A few seconds was all I had.

_Hold on, Christine._

With all my might I pulled at the iron lever. The seconds that passed felt like an eternity until finally to my utter, heart-wrenching relief, the gate began to rise.

_Yes. Yes._

The gate rose but Christine did not surface.

_No. _

As soon as the gap was large enough for me to enter the chilling body of water, I slid in and emerged with a seemingly lifeless Christine.

_"Christine!" _I called, trying to shake her as I pulled her from the depths. I pulled her out of the water and lay her on the cold, stone floor. I could not help but feel a terrible sense of helplessness at the sight of her before me. Her skin was pale. She was still. She was not breathing.

_"Christine!"_ I called, kneeling down next to her and shaking; the shakes becoming more violent as she refused to wake. "_Christine... Please wake. Please."_ I began to cry into her soaked hair. I had to calm myself. I had to focus. I had only seconds left. There had to be something that could be done. I thought back to the many books I had read over the years. I wracked my brain for information that might save her.

Suddenly, I remembered something. I began attempting to blow air into her lungs. I had read about a procedure at length; very experimental in nature but one that might save her. I had never had any real world practice but I didn't have a choice. I had to do whatever I could; there was no one else. I held her head back and placed my lips upon her own; my harried, desperate mind allowing me a brief memory of the last time our lips had touched as I did so.

_"Christine, why would you do this? Why?"_ I looked up, figuratively addressing the heavens or whatever the equivalent for someone like me would likely be. "_Why would you do this to me? Have I not suffered enough?!"_

Just when I thought that I might lose myself in grief and anxiety, she began coughing up water.

"Christine!" I called, immediately pulling her into an embrace before she could even open her eyes. I don't know whether it was an act purely out of reflex or something else but she clung to me then and I realized how _much _I had missed her, and how grateful I was that she was alive. "_Thank you. Thank you."_ I cried into her hair, not exactly sure who I was thanking. Even if she did not wish to be around me, she was still in this world and that was more important. "_Why did you come, Christine! You could have been killed!" _I could feel her warm breath on the right side of my face when moments before I could not.

My face...

My hand flew to my cheek and it took but a second for me to realize that I had lost my mask and wig somewhere in the water. The last thing she needed after the scare she had had was to see my ghastly face staring down at her. Gently laying her back down on the stone floor, I jumped back into the water to retrieve these most precious items and thankfully I managed to pull myself back out of the water and replace them before she could open her eyes.

When she did, all the animosity I had harboured over the weeks threatened to melt away. Her eyes were just how I had remembered them; clear, sparkling, innocent... She was _alive _and I did not care about anything else. But I could not give in... not after how we had left things. She was alive, and I was ecstatic but there was a reason she had come, there was a reason she had stayed away. She had asked me to return her to the surface because she did not trust me... I had spent weeks agonizing over the fact and now that she was here in front of me, the pain was excruciating.

"Erik..?" She called, sitting up slightly. It took everything I had not to rush to her side.

"Yes. I am here. Are you alright now?" I asked, still standing on the edge of the water.

"Yes." She said. She reached out to me with her small, exhausted arms; beckoning my embrace, my touch... beckoning _me _of all things. "Please, come to me." I wanted to resist, I wanted to keep hold of my stoic disposition and stay well away from her but I could see that she was visibly shaking. Slowly I walked over to her, still dripping myself and sat down. Immediately she wrapped her arms around me and without thinking, I did the same.

"Thank you." She said. "I... I had missed you..."

How dare she say that to me now? Had she any idea the pain it caused? I cleared my throat audibly.

"When you are strong enough to walk, let me know. I am sure that you wish to return to the surface right away, but I will need to change first, as should you..." I had to take her to my home. As much as she would dread it, I had to for the sake of her health and mine. "In fact, we should go now. It will help you to get warm." Better to get it over with. The sooner she was well, the sooner she could leave; return to her world.

She agreed and during the short walk to my home she improved greatly, much to my relief. Much of it was in knee deep water but she did not complain. We did not speak for the duration. I wondered why she had come but dared not voice my concerns, not yet. She had probably come out of pity, or to see whether I was still alive... had we not met under such desperate circumstances I would not have spoken to her at all. As we got to the shore of my home, I set her down on a large, padded chair I usually used specifically for reading and stood up.

"I will make you some tea in order to keep you warm." I said sternly and turned towards the kitchen. It was then that she spoke.

"You told me that you would be watching down on me, always." She said icily. I turned to face her. How dare she speak to me in such an accusatory way after what I had been through over the past weeks? I could not believe what I was hearing.

"What sort of Angel are you?" She added. My eyes widened.

"I just saved your life, Christine."

"I'm not talking about tonight."

Was she talking about the weeks between our last meeting and now? The weeks I had spent in agonizing solitude?

* * *

Christine

I found myself furious with him. I had almost died trying to see him and he didn't appear to be in the least bit glad to see me. "You told me that you would be watching down on me, always. What sort of angel are you?" His eyes widened and they took on a frightening glow as he walked back towards me.

"I am no angel Christine! I am but the devil, him self! Don't you find that more apt? I do!"

"This isn't you..." I said.

"Who _am_ I? Do you have the slightest idea? No. You do not."

"You are Erik, remember? Like you said... you... were still the same person." Ever since we had parted I had been thinking on the words we had last exchanged. I regretted what I had said and I was sure that he felt the same. Yes, he had murdered and I was horrified by the fact but his words; his pleas had been eating away at me for weeks.

He had every right to be short with me but he had turned into someone else; The Phantom. This was the last thing that I wanted. I had hoped that by likening him to 'The Angel' once more I would remind him of how we used to be. I was wrong. It had done the opposite.

"Erik..." He exhaled deeply and turned away from me. "Erik is just... another name. Just a dream I was living for a time..."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, reaching out to touch his arm. He jerked away from my touch and took a step back. He stood with his fists clenched, looking toward the lake. "Erik, I came back because..."

"It does not matter why you came." He said; his voice dark.

"Yes, it does! Why won't you listen to me?"

"Where did you go!? I called for you, for weeks I tried to find you but you would not show yourself to me. Why?"

"How quickly you forget, Christine. You ordered me away..."His voice broke on the last few words. "Do you remember? You asked me to take you to the surface! You _begged _me! It broke my heart!" He yelled, now only inches from me. He sighed. "I kept away because you asked me to..." He turned and walked away, still soaked and leaving a trail of water in his wake. He walked into a room next to where I remembered the kitchen to be and closed the door.

"But _why _did you just go missing?" I yelled, standing up and walking to his room. A childish question, I knew that. But his evasiveness was infuriating. "You just left me!" Without thinking I pushed open his door. Immediately his hand flew to his face and he turned his back to me. Hastily replacing his mask before I could glimpse what lay beneath it. I was frozen; in shock at what I saw. Evidently I had caught him changing. He was wearing a dry pair of trousers and had just removed his soaked shirt. Part of me regretted what I had done but part of me did not... It wasn't the fact that I had never seen a man in such a state; it was more the shock of _who _it was that I was seeing. In spite of my ordeal I felt my cheeks redden at what was before me as I took it all in. Erik spun around as soon as I had entered.

"_Do I possess no rights to privacy anymore?"_ He asked, snatching a crisp, white shirt from within his cupboard. "It seems like every other day I am receiving unexpected visitors." Was he talking about Madame Giry? Was he talking about... me? Even after how I had left him, part of me had expected him to be happy to see me. The man I had come to know would never have been so abrupt with me, so _rude. _Still, in spite of the fact that he had admonished my doing so, I stared. I could not help it. As he turned back around and I was faced with his back once, my eyes were met with what appeared to be scarring; abstract patterns, white in color tracing over the expanse of his back.

They had to be scars... but there were so many.

"Erik... Your back. It's..."

"It is nothing. You should not have seen it." He pulled his shirt around his shoulders and walked towards me. I could not begin to process what I had seen before he spoke again. "You should not have seen _me _at all. You should not have come." He pushed past me and walked out of the bedroom.

"I should not have come?" I challenged, rushing past him and standing before him. "Why did you save me if I should not have come?" He sighed and began fastening the buttons on his shirt.

"I do not wish for you to come to harm, Christine." His eyes softened. "I would never want that."

"Well what _do_ you want?" I asked. He looked up and held my gaze with that fierce intensity I had remembered... I had missed. "Do you have any clue at all?"

"I know what I want. That much I have made clear." He stepped closer to me, perhaps intentionally intimidating me with his proximity. "Do you know what _you _want?"

I looked down. I did know. I knew but i was afraid to admit it...

"I... thought I knew."

Erik scoffed and he lifted his gaze.

"Like I said. You should not have come. You should change out of those clothes before you become Ill. I will return you to the surface..." His eyes narrowed. "Where you so _wish_ to be; where you know that you belong." He made to push past me.

"Wait..." I said, placing a hand on his chest before he could take a step. As our flesh made contact we looked at one another and I felt him inhale sharply. His eyes softened once more and for a moment I saw the Erik I had known months ago. He froze where he was. Perhaps he did not want to disturb my hand where it lay, lest I remove it. After a moment of silence, he spoke and when he did his voice was no longer harsh and commanding. It was the opposite; soft and apprehensive, almost painful in its sincerity. I studied his face as I had so yearned to for the past few weeks. He hadn't been sleeping, there was evidence of that. He also looked as though he hadn't groomed himself in some time and he had become noticeably thinner. I knew that it was partly my doing, and I hated myself for it but I had to remind myself that I had left for a reason. I was not completely at fault.

"Why... are you here?" He asked, looking down at my hand in disbelief. "Why are you doing this to me..?" I searched his eyes.

"Doing..?"

"Are you oblivious to your affect on me? Do you know how much it pains me just to_ look _at you? And... to know that I... can't." He moved to touch my face but pulled his hand away at the last second; his clenched fist falling to his side.

"I... I just wanted to see you." I stammered.

Erik scoffed again before smiling faintly. Still not meeting my gaze, he lifted his hand up to where mine was and began tracing my fingers apprehensively, gently; delicately. As if he was afraid that in some way he would damage me if he committed too much to the touch. As if he was a danger to me.

That was exactly how I had acted when I had last seen him.

Perhaps he _was _a danger to me. That _was _why I had left, wasn't it? But as I looked in his eyes, I saw a different person. Erik was back. I was beginning to see that Erik and The Phantom were two separate people, or at least in his mind. Perhaps that was his coping mechanism... Perhaps he detached from himself from time to time. Perhaps that was how gotten through the tribulations of his life up until now.

"Why did you want to see me?" He asked, finally meeting my gaze.

Why _did _I want to see him? Over the past few weeks I had become increasingly certain of my feelings for the man, but conflicted in having them. Now that he was here before me, I could not lie. I could not lie to myself or him. I did not understand my feelings but I could no longer deny their presence.

"Because..." I looked down. "I love you."

* * *

**Let me know what you think! :)**

**I hope that I'm keeping everyone in character! **


	13. Chapter 13

Next chapter, woo! Thanks for the reviews guys! I wrote today this instead of doing uni work, just cause. And now i feel guilty for not having done any work... :/ Anyway! Hopefully it was worth it. Let me know!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

* * *

**Erik**

I was angry with her, I was furious at her for foolishly putting her life at risk, for presenting herself to me when I had spent so long trying to forget her; trying to live without her. I was angry at her for walking in on me getting changed; for having the nerve to mention my scars when she should not have seen them in the first place and most definitely would not care where they came from should I condescend to explain them.

What did she want? Why had she come? I wanted to ask her but more so I wanted to speak to her as little as possible; speaking would only serve to open the wounds I had spent weeks attempting to close. We were no longer what we used to be, and the fault was mine. I knew that. It was all my own doing but she did not even give me the chance to explain myself. She left without so much as a second thought, and yet she returned to me. Why? She was trying to explain herself to me but I would not let her. After all, she had not afforded me the same kindness...

After the rescue I kept my distance from her, avoiding eye contact where I could and not allowing myself the torturous pleasure of being near her; close enough to be cruelly reminded of her scent, the texture of her hair, the softness of her skin... Those eyes... those lips.

I had almost escaped our encounter unscathed; she had not breached my fortress walls because I had not allowed it... And then...

She touched me.

My heart skipped a beat as her cold hand came in contact with the exposed skin of my chest.

I near lost all of my resolve at that moment. I looked down at her hand in disbelief and it was all I had not to weep right there; right in front of her. I did not hate her. I did not even dislike her. How could I possibly? I loved her. I had never stopped loving her and at that moment I realized that I was foolish to believe that I ever could. All it took to realize that was a single touch from her, a single, voluntary touch; almost accidental in nature, at least at first was all it took to remind me of what we had and how monumentally daft I had been to jeopardize it. How had I lived these weeks without her touch? I hadn't... I had not been alive until this moment.

We looked at one another; finally aware of each other's presence, of the feelings we had once shared. And now that those feelings had once more awakened, I could not bear it. I could not bear to stand before this woman, stripped of all my vices and defenses. Now, finally meeting her gaze, it was more unbearable than ever before. She stood before me with an unreadable expression upon her perfect features and beckoned me to answer a question she had not asked. A question I did not know the answer to.

"Why are you here?" I asked. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing?" She responded softly, apparently unaware of what she was putting me through just by _being._

"Are you oblivious to your affect on me?" I asked. "Do you know how much it pains me just to_ look _at you? And... to know that I... can't." I moved to touch her face but decided against it... I knew that _that _part of her life did not belong to me anymore; perhaps it never had. Perhaps I had never deserved such happiness; it had been a mistake made by a higher power, or a cruel trick. My clenched fist fell to my side in frustration. I wanted to leave; to walk away. I wanted to be released from her gaze, from her spell. But she would not remove her hand and did not possess the strength to remove it myself. Her fingers seared my flesh where they lay; deliciously maddening and burning away at what was left of my sanity.

"I just wanted to see you." She said. I scoffed, still convinced that she was just using her wiles to convince me to return her to the surface. I looked down at her small hand once more and smiled; thinking of a time when I was allowed to hold it; when she _wanted _me to hold it. I reached up and traced her fingers with my own, painfully aware of what my hands were capable of, the sins they were responsible for. Christine did not flinch, she simply stared at my hand on her own, frozen... most likely from fear more than anything else.

"Why did you want to see me?" I dared.

Christine looked down and was silent for a few moments.

And then, the words that near broke me escaped from her lips.

"Because... I love you."

I blinked in confusion.

It could not be. She had to have been lying; lying to me so that I would return her to the surface as soon as possible.

"Christine..." I stammered. "Why do you say this?" I removed her hand from my chest and stared at her, awaiting the logical answer I needed to hear.

_Because you wanted to hear it._

_Because I don't want you to hurt me._

"What... What do you mean?" She asked innocently. "I say it because... It is the truth."

"You cannot mean that." I said, releasing her hand. Such a thing was not possible. "Do not lie to me, Christine. Whatever else you do... do not lie to me."

"I'm not lying to you!" She said indignantly. "Why would I lie about such a thing?"

"I do not know." I said, looking down and resuming the buttoning of my shirt. "But please, tell me why you really came."

"Why is it so hard for you to believe what I say?"

_Because of the way you left me..._

I did not answer. Truly, I did not know what to tell her; where to start. Was it because I had never experienced the even the smallest amount of affection in my life? Was it because I did not trust anyone to tell me the truth due to what I had experienced? Was it because something so pure and beautiful could not possibly befall someone as loathsome as me? Was it because if she were telling the truth, my poor, pathetic excuse for a beating heart could not comprehend such feeling? I did not know how to love, and yet I loved her. How was it that she... loved me in return?

"Do... Do not toy with my emotions, Christine..." I said, absentmindedly tucking in my shirt.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe me?" She repeated. She stood in front of me once more. "_Why!"_

"Because..."

"Tell me! I have come here to tell you that I love you and you will not even speak to me!"

"I...can't..." She would not let me speak.

"_What, Erik! I almost died trying to find you, the least you can do is tell me what you are thinking!" She _was now the one yelling and I was becoming overwhelmed. The words seemed to stick in my throat and every time I opened my mouth to speak she stepped closer to me, yelled louder.

_"__Do you not love me? Is that it?"_

_"__Christine!"_ I yelled, infuriated.

"Why can't you just speak to me? Why..."

"I cannot speak because you will not allow it!" I yelled. Christine was silenced. "I cannot believe that you are truthful in your words because it is too painful; I cannot bear it. I cannot bear the thought of not seeing you for another few weeks, for another day... another hour! It is intoxicating simply to be around you, Christine Daae and you seem either oblivious or completely uncaring to the fact that you have such an effect on me. Why would you come here after all the time that has passed, all the healing I have attempted to undergo in your wake? Have you come to torture me further with promises and declarations you cannot fulfil?" I walked past her to stand on the edge of my glassy lake as I had done during the many lonely nights... "You know nothing of the life I have had. I cannot accept that you love me because I am... unfamiliar with the sensation... If you leave again, I may not recover." I turned to face her and I softened my voice. "I know why you left, and the fault is mine... The fault is mine and I am sorry for all that I put you through. Every waking minute I regret that choice that I made. But I cannot take it back. How can you accept what I have done now that you know who I am? Now that you know what I am capable of? You cannot. Who could love someone like this... someone like me?"

Christine walked to me and took one of my hands.

"_I _could. I could love someone like you, and I do. I know what you have done and I know who you are... but that does not change who you are around me. What you did was terrible, and it frightened me. I was... terrified of you..." She looked up at me. "For a time... Nothing excuses what you have done but what you have told me... helps me to understand it. For weeks all I did was replay that night in my mind; the things you said. And I will admit that I cannot completely comprehend my feelings..." I snatched my hand from her grasp and turned to face the lake once more.

I could not allow her to convince me; to sway my thoughts. I loved her more than anything else on the earth, more than air, more than food, more than music... And I wanted her words to be true. I wanted her to love me. But I could not believe what she was telling me. She was still afraid of me. She would stay with me for a time and then she would leave.

"But I will not deny their presence..." She continued. "What I do know is that I love you, and I could not bear to be away from you again." She snaked her hands around my waist from behind, pulling me into an embrace as I stared at the glassy water.

"Christine..." I said uncomfortably. "Don't..." My arms remained where they were, folded across my chest. I could not give in to her.

"I missed you, Erik. All I did for weeks was _miss _you and I thought that you had left me... for good..."

"I... would never leave you." I whispered, my resolve almost broken. "Don't you know that?"

"Erik..." She called.

"Yes..." I responded cautiously.

"Look at me..." She offered, releasing me and turning me around gently. I turned around and looked at her. I had nothing left, my defences were lost, and my resolve was broken.

She reached up and stroked the left side of my face gently.

"I love you." She said softly.

"How... can I know that you mean what you say?" I questioned. To this she smiled and pulled my face down to meet hers until we were mere inches apart.

"Christine..." I whispered; one last attempt at resistance. She stared at me, her dark brown eyes searching my face for recognition, for an answer...Her breath was warm against my face. Her thumb was caressing my cheek where it lay and her other hand had found its way beneath my collar and was doing the same with my neck. I could not resist any longer. Her eyes beckoned me, _beseeched _me to do what I so desperately desired to do. Just when I was about to close the gap between us, Christine moved forward and placed her lips upon mine. The kiss was gentle, delicate... but longing just as our last had been. After a few seconds she pulled away, something I did not possess the power to do. When she did I had tears in my eyes. She hadn't been lying... Against all odds she _did _love me.

"Do you believe what I say?" She asked as she pulled me into an embrace. I did. Of course I did.

"I... I am so sorry Môn Ange." I whispered into her hair as I returned the embrace. "I am so, so sorry for what I have done. Please forgive me. I cannot bear another second without you."

"It is already forgiven." She placed a kiss on my neck and I felt light-headed. I took a deep breath held her tight. Suddenly I noticed that the front of my shirt began to feel damp.

Of course. She had not changed her clothes...

"Christine..."I pulled away gently. "You need to change. You will become ill."

"Oh... yes." She said, apparently distracted.

"There is a wardrobe in the bed chamber you... spent the night in... there I keep ladies clothes you... may change into."

Christine gave me a quizzical look. Understandably so.

"I wanted you to feel comfortable should you ever decide to spend the night..." I explained awkwardly. I had nothing but honourable intentions should a situation like that ever come to pass... I hoped she knew that.

"Thank you." She said, releasing me. "That is... very thoughtful."

I smiled uncomfortably.

"I... will take you back as soon as you ask, of course. It was... just for emergencies."

"I understand." She smiled.

"Go and change, please. The last thing I want is you taking ill... damaging your voice or worse."

"Oh. Very nice to see where your priorities lie." She teased.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, Christine." I smiled.

"I know. I know." She said and began towards her sleeping quarters. As I watched her walk away I could not quite believe what had just happened. In less than an hour my life had changed completely. I looked around me at the destruction I had caused and the regret at what I had done was overwhelming. Christine had _seen _it all. She had seen me at my worst and still she confessed her love for me. How was it possible? I could not comprehend it.

When she returned I was sitting at my organ, finishing some notation for my latest work... my latest Opera.

She walked up behind me and touched my back affectionately. I smiled and leaned into her touch as her fingers began to knead my shoulders gently, the same way they had done that very first night. What a marvelous sensation. Who knew that her small, delicate hands were capable of such a feat?

"What are you working on?" She asked; her hands still on my shoulders. "What is... 'Don Juan Triumphant?'"

I took the music from its stand and placed it face down atop my organ. I had begun the opera in the depths of despair she had left me in... To have her read it at this moment would be nothing short of mortifying. No, she would not see it until it was complete. No one would.

"Ah..." I began. How could she expect me to speak or concentrate when she was touching me in such a way? Each time she touched me, I lost myself further within her. "It... it isn't complete." I stammered. "I will show you when it is done, rest assured."

"Oh, please show me!" She asked.

"No, no." I answered with a chuckle; a sound which hadn't escaped my lips since the last time I had seen her. "Not until it is complete."

She sighed.

"Alright." She said, disappointed. Then I felt her fingers trace the scars on my back through the fabric of my shirt and I knew what her next question was sure to be.

"What... are your scars from?" She asked apprehensively. I took a deep breath and dropped my head slightly.

_Which ones?_

"I don't think it is... prudent to discuss that, my dear."

"Please? I won't tell anyone..."

"It isn't that." I said, turning to face her. "I would simply prefer not to revisit that time in my life. You should not have seen them... I apologise for exposing you to such things."

"Don't apologize." She said, sitting down next to me on the piano bench. "I _want_ to know about you. Did someone... _do _that to you?"

"Yes, Christine." I said standing up. "Someone did. I would rather not discuss the matter, alright?"

As soon as she discovered my past she would leave me again. Therefore I would delay that for as long as I possibly could.

"Alright." She said, slightly withdrawn.

"Would you like to go back now?" I offered. I did not want her to feel uncomfortable or trapped in any way and I hadn't meant for my last words to sound quite as harsh as they had.

"Well..." She began. She appeared taken aback by my forthright question. "Do you wish for me to leave?"

"Christine..." I began, touching the side of her face gently. "Of course not."

If I had my way she would never leave.

"Well... I_ should_ go. Although I do not wish to... I should return to let Madame Giry know that I am alright." She began. Was that how she had found her way to me?

I wanted nothing more than to let her stay for as long as she wanted... Then I looked around me once more. How could she possibly stay? What could I offer her? I had no food to speak of. There was nowhere for her to recline and read as she had once done. I was all of a sudden incredibly ashamed of myself. As soon as she left I would clean up my disastrous mess. I would start over.

"I... I am sorry about all of this." I said, waving my hand at my surroundings. "There is nowhere for you to sit. When you return everything will be as it was."

"This was all your doing?" She asked, following my gesture. I nodded.

"I will help you to clean it up if you'd like?"

"No thank you, my dear." I smiled. "I made the mess. I will clean it."

Christine smiled at me once more and pulled me into an embrace. I rested my chin atop her head and smiled to myself.

"Come." I said reluctantly. "You should return. I will take you back the regular way."

* * *

"How will I see you now that La Carlotta has returned to her dressing room?" She asked as she followed me through the dark passages once more.

"Don't hinder yourself with such details, Christine. It will all be sorted. Soon, the dressing room will be yours once more."

"Your new opera?" She questioned.

I turned to her and nodded with a slight smirk upon my face.

"...So mysterious." I heard her remark from behind me; a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Tonight, you will exit through the dressing room door as La Carlotta will have returned home. It may take a week or so for me to make the new arrangements but until then, please do not seek me out..."

There was silence behind me. I turned around to see Christine looking at me questioningly, slightly crestfallen at my last words. I realized at once how harsh I must have sounded. I was still largely unaccustomed to the art of conversation and I had not really spoken to anyone in more than a month...

"...For your own safety." I added with a smile. "You cannot imagine how you frightened me tonight. For now, I will come to you if you so wish it."

"I do..." She said; her voice small.

* * *

After a few more minutes of comfortable silence we reached the threshold to the outside world; the dressing room mirror. I released her hand and stood with my back to the wall, my torch lighting her way so that she could see her way to the mirror. Christine stood before me and took my hand in hers.

"If I cannot meet you here, when can I expect to see you?"

"You will see me." I said, attempting to control my joy but failing miserably. "Perhaps it will be a surprise."

"A surprise..?" She smiled. "How intriguing."

"You should go." I said. I brought her hand to my lips and placed a kiss on her cold knuckles. "It does not do to spend so much time in the cold."

"Are you not cold?" She asked.

"...No." I answered, struggling with the notion of someone actually caring about my comfort.

"Alright..." She said, thankfully sated with my answer. She wrapped her arms around my neck. "Don't wait too long to see me."

"As you wish." I said; one of my arms encircling her waist, the other still holding the torch. "I thought that I had lost you, tonight..."

"You haven't." She said warmly. "Good night, Erik." She placed a hasty kiss on my lips before releasing me and walking to the mirror. As soon as she had released me I was enveloped by the cold and the darkness once more. She was my light, my warmth, my _life._ I touched my mouth pensively; my fingers tracing where her lips had just been.

She closed the mirror before I could speak and my response echoed a little louder than I had intended.

"Good night, Christine!"

* * *

**Christine**

I closed the door to the mirror behind me and tiptoed to the dressing room door, taking one last thoughtful look at the mirror behind me and smiling. I did not know if he was still watching or not...

_I love you._

I felt whole again. Once more, I would count the minutes until I could see Erik again. I had not forgotten his crime, no... but I knew that regardless, I could not live without him. His presence in my life was now stronger than it had ever been and while it would take time to adjust to what I had learned about him I was happier now than I had been in the weeks of solitude prior.

Carefully I unlocked the door and opened it, being sure to make as little sound as possible with each move that I made. I exited the room and with a smile still on my face I locked the door behind me just as I had always done.

"Christine." A voice sounded from behind me. I spun around.

"Raoul." I said.

"Who were you speaking to?"

"Wh...what? Nobody..." My mind raced. Raoul could not find out; no one could know. It would surely spoil everything... especially after what Erik had done. The Gendarmerie were still searching for Buquet's murderer and I could not bear to think of harm befalling Erik because of me.

"Christine... I heard a man's voice in there. I heard him say good night to you. Who is he? Another suitor? Open the door so that I can question him."

"There isn't anyone there, Raoul. I promise you..."

It was not altogether a lie; there _was _no one there. Not anymore... I handed him the key.

"See for yourself."

I prayed that I had closed the mirror. I prayed that Erik had well and truly gone. I saw no reason for him to _be _there and he was usually quite cautious but he and I had just mended things between us; things were too good to be true.

"Alright..." Raoul said, gently taking the key from my grasp.

He opened the door and to my horror, I saw the mirror half open with Erik standing behind it.

"Christine..." Raoul began; eyes wide and mouth agape. "What is this?" He turned to me. "Who is he?"

What had I done?

* * *

**So, finally some more fluff. Angsty, sassy fluff... but fluff all the same. They needed it, I think.**

**But now more drama :0**


	14. Chapter 14

**The face off!**

**Enjoy.**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

**Christine**

"Who is this? Who is he?" Raoul questioned, outraged. "What is going on?"

"Raoul... let me explain..." I turned to Erik. "What are you _doing_?!" I could not believe that he could have been so careless; it was not in his nature.

"Explain..? Christine I do not know where you can begin?" His voice was rising in volume. "Is... is that the mirror? Wha...?" I knew that I had to keep him quiet lest he draw more attention to the situation. I shot another glance at Erik, my eyes beckoning him to answer the question I had previously asked. He simply stared back at me, unblinking. I could see no remorse or regret whatsoever in his expression. In fact, his body language expressed the opposite; he seemed almost pleased with himself. His arms were folded across his chest beneath his cape; his stance was confident, proud. It was as if he _wanted _to be seen.

"Raoul. Please, come inside..." I said, gently pushing him inside the room. He stared at the man behind the mirror, stupefied but obeyed my request.

I _didn't _know where to begin. I had not planned on revealing mine and Erik's relationship... friendship... courtship, whatever it was for a long time to come... if ever. For the life of me I could not think why Erik would do such a thing. It _must _have been intentional; he did not make mistakes like that.

Once Raoul had stepped inside I closed the door quietly and locked it once more. I walked up to Erik and stood before him.

"_What _are you doing!?" I whispered.

He just stared down at me, the corner of his mouth now upturned in a smirk.

"Christine...?" Raoul called in frustration. "_What _is going on? Who is he?" I turned around to see him pointing at the smirking man behind me. How quickly Erik had changed to the Phantom in the presence of someone else.

What could I say? The truth was that Raoul already _knew _who this man was... or had at least heard about him.

"Well?" Raoul demanded.

A deep voice behind me answered.

"You know very well who I am, Monsieur."

Raoul stared at the man behind me.

"I... I was addressing Christine, if you _don't _mind." He sneered. I heard Erik scoff behind me.

I sighed.

"Raoul... this..." I knew that I was going to regret speaking but I wasn't left with another choice. "This is my... my teacher."

"_Teacher?" _Raoul questioned, his features contorting. "You told me that you were in contact with... a tutor; your... 'Angel of Music' but I always thought that it was part of some fantasy?"

"Who is this man really?"

"You are right. It was a fantasy... but this man _is _my tutor. That is the truth."

"...And more." The deep voice behind me added smugly.

I spun around and glared at him.

"This is not possible." Raoul stated. He attempted to peer around me. "Do my eyes deceive me? What... is behind that mirror?"

"Nothing that is any concern of yours." Erik replied, stepping over the threshold and sliding the mirror shut behind him.

"I _think _that it _is _my concern... Monsieur." Raoul stepped forward slightly. Erik made to step past me but I put my arm in front of him.

"Don't." I whispered.

"What am I to make of this, Christine? Is this man your... are you courting him or... something of the like?" He squinted at me for a few moments before I realized that I, like Erik was almost completely shrouded in darkness. _That _was why Raoul was more concerned with the fact that I may have been courting another man and less concerned with _who _the man was. "I must say..." He continued. "It _certainly _isn't proper for you to be entertaining strange men in a dressing room if that _isn't _the case."

I turned to Erik, knowing that he would retort.

"Yes, Christine." He spoke. "Your friend is correct. It _isn't _proper to entertain _strange_ men at this hour. Allow me to remove him for you." He moved to step forward, as did Raoul.

"Erik... _don't!"_ I pushed against his chest in order to keep him in place and it seemed to work. Of course, he wasn't really _trying _to get past me; simply humoring me. It was my words which held him where he was, hidden in the darkness. I held out my other hand to keep Raoul at bay but he stopped a few feet away.

"_Well?"_ Raoul began. "_Are _you courting this person..?" He was thoroughly confused.

Erik looked down at me. The smug grin was still upon his face but his eyes were willing me to answer Raoul; challenging me to do it... to say the words out loud or he would.

"Y... Yes. We are courting." I stammered. I shot a glance up at Erik who was now smiling triumphantly and staring straight ahead at Raoul once more. I knew how much these words must have meant to him, but I couldn't help but find myself slightly irritated with how he was acting; as if it were all for Raoul. As if I were on show... simply a possession. My face fell slightly but he did not seem to notice.

Raoul dropped his head slightly, and squinted in my direction once more.

"Step into the light, Monsieur." He began. "So that I may at least set eyes upon my challenger."

"With pleasure." Erik retorted.

"Erik..." I began, pushing him once more as I looked up at him. "What are you _doing?_" I had done my very best to keep Erik in the shadows of the room, to keep him hidden. I _knew_ of the rumors and stories circulating the Opera about the Phantom. He had been a legend; a threat since I had arrived as a child and though many details about his appearance remained nothing than vague hearsay, that mask was a constant. That was the one attribute all witnesses would attest to seeing. I knew that once Raoul caught sight of that stark, white mask he would know exactly who it was he was dealing with. I knew that the law was still very much at large in the Opera house, stopping by daily in aid of their investigation of Buquet's murder... and now I knew that Erik was the culprit. Yes, this reminded me of the fear I had felt upon first hearing Erik's confession and a large part of me was still ill at ease. But another part of me; the larger part felt fear _for _Erik. I knew what happened to convicted murderers in Paris and when I pictured the gallows my breath caught in my chest. Suddenly I realized that I would do _anything _it took to prevent such an event. Suddenly I became aware of the priority...

It was him.

Upon hearing Raoul's challenge, Erik simply smiled at me, removed my obstructing hand and stepped in front of me. Before I could speak another word in protest he was standing before Raoul, clearly illuminated. Raoul gasped. To my horror, Raoul recognized the unique accessory immediately.

"You... That mask... You..." Raoul stammered. Erik nodded.

"Yes." He said.

"The... the Opera Ghost... It can't be."

"It is." His voice had now changed in tone; it was menacing and dark. I didn't like it.

"Christine, come! Get _away _from him! He murdered Buquet!"

"I know..." I said quietly, flinching at the words. Erik looked back at me, attempting to read my expression.

"You... you _know?_ Christine... perhaps... you aren't thinking straight? Has he done something to you? Put you under some sort of spell?"

"I have done nothing of the sort, Vicomte." Erik spoke with a click of his tongue, his patience apparently wearing thin.

"How do you know who I am?" Raoul demanded. A question which received a booming laugh from Erik in response... but it was far removed from the warm chuckle I had previously heard; this was harsh, cynical and echoed of dread and foreboding. It sent shivers up my spine.

"This is _my _Opera House. Do you honestly think that I would allow myself to be unaware of the goings on under this roof? That I would leave myself oblivious? Of _course _I know who you are; the new _patron." _He spat out the last word. "I see all. I watch everybody. I watch you, walking around as if you own the place... spending time with my Christine."

_"__Your _Christine?" Raoul looked to me once more, holding out his hand. "Christine, come... quickly."

"Do not tell her what to do _boy. _It may be the last _command _you ever make."

"Do _not _threaten me!" Raoul challenged, pushing past me and standing before the Phantom. "I do not care _who _you are... you..."

In a swift movement Erik had taken hold of Raoul's collar and was now mere inches from him.

"_YOU..."_ He began. "Would do well to _care _who I am."

"Stop, Erik! Let him go!" I yelled.

"He is lucky that all I have I have hold of is his _collar_." Erik replied through gritted teeth.

"Please."

Erik turned to me, his eyes searching mine in disbelief. I knew that I had to rephrase what I had just said lest he take it the wrong way. I could not risk being without him for another week... not for another moment.

"_Why?"_ he asked, still searching my eyes.

"Because... I wish it. Please." I said, placing a placating hand on the arm that now threatened to lift Raoul clear off the ground. Erik's eyes seemed to soften slightly and his grip seemed to loosen. "Raoul. Both of you... can we not have a civilized conversation?"

"You want civility, Christine? With _him?" _

"Raoul..." I warned. I could not believe that in spite of his knowledge, Raoul was intentionally challenging Erik. Surely he did not realize what he was doing. "Raoul, don't."

Erik's vice-like grip tightened once more. Gently I touched his hand and looked at him. He had to know how I felt about violence... how it had threatened to tear us apart mere weeks ago. My eyes pleaded until once more, his softened. Soon he had released my friend and taken a step back. He stared at his hands with regret; perhaps his hasty actions had been a painful reminder of his mistakes and the weeks we had spent apart as a result of them.

Thankfully Raoul stepped back also. Perhaps both men were only obeying me due to their affections but at this point I did not care; I did not care what it took for I did not wish for either of them to be hurt as a result of tempers and emotions.

To my surprise Raoul's expression did not change. He did not show an inkling of gratitude.

"So this is the way it is, Christine?" He asked, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Don't look at me like that Raoul. Please. Nothing has changed. I still wish to spend time with you and..."

"In aid of what?" He spat. "These past few weeks..." He stared at me for a moment before dropping his head. "Meant something different to you than they did to me. Clearly." He gestured towards Erik who was standing directly behind me as if I would change my mind and run to Raoul if he did not.

"I am... sorry." I said.

Raoul looked up and immediately I could see that he had been fighting back tears.

"_Him, _Christine? Why did it have to be _him? _He is not right for you. He... is not right for anyone... he is _dangerous!"_

Erik stepped forward once more.

"Careful, Monsieur." He warned. Raoul flinched before glancing at me; pain was visible in his eyes. He took a deep breath and turned toward the door.

"_Where are you going?"_ I called. He couldn't be leaving. I knew that I owed him more of an explanation than I had given him. He needed to understand. _I _needed to know that he would be alright.

I needed to know whether he would keep my secret...

"What does it matter?" He replied softly before opening the door and walking through it. It closed behind him with a dull click, and Erik and I were left alone once more.

"What have I done?" I cursed, holding my head in my hands.

"This is not your fault." Erik began, walking up to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. "I was the one who revealed myself."

"Yes. _Why!?" _I asked, turning around and pushing him slightly.

He stared at me, taken aback. I turned away once more.

"How could I have done this to him?"

"Why do you care so much, Christine? Why do you care so much about him?"

"He is my friend!"

"Is that all?" He challenged.

"_Yes _that is all!"

"Well then why didn't you make that clear?"

"I..." I opened my mouth to continue before realizing that he was absolutely right. _That _was why I was so upset. Over the weeks I had been well aware of his intentions but had not addressed them. Therefore, the fault was mine. Of course I valued Raoul's friendship but I knew very well why I was in fact spending so much time with him. I was using him. I did not want to admit it but at the core of my being I knew it to be true. I was using him to fill the void left by Erik. And now... with Erik back in my life, would I want to see Raoul? I had to tell myself that I would. I would have to make the effort if only to prove to myself that I was wrong.

"I... I was lost when you were gone." I said. A feeble attempt to explain my heinous actions. "I turned to him... and I found that I enjoyed his company too much to tell him the truth. I... _needed _him. I needed someone in your absence. And so... I used him." It felt better to have said it aloud.

"Ah." Was Erik's reply. I turned to face him once more.

"You must think me a terrible person."

"My dear. After what I have done, I am hardly the one to cast aspersions. It was not the best way to have handled things... but I understand your motivation." I walked to him and took his hands in my own.

"I'm sorry to have blamed you." I said. He laughed.

"The fault _was _mine. I am willing to take the blame for it."

"But... I blamed you for everything. I'm angry with you for revealing yourself. But not because... I didn't want Raoul to see you. It was because I couldn't come to terms with the truth about the time I had spent with him. All along I was aware of his intentions... I didn't want to believe that I could be so selfish."

"We can all be selfish at times. It is in our nature."

"Yes." I smiled. Surprised at his maturity and apparent tranquility given what had happened. "At least now I will not have to worry about what to say to him if he proposes."

_"__I should hope not!" _He replied. I laughed and rested my head on his chest.

_"_And we should not forget the reality behind what you have done tonight." I said sternly, looking up at him. He shook his head.

"They will not discover me, Christine."

"I worry for you." I said, dropping my head.

"Why is that, my dear?" He asked, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.

"You _know _very well why." I said, slightly petulant.

Erik took a deep breath and smiled before pulling me into an embrace.

"Do not trouble yourself, Christine. I have told you. They will not find me. It is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible..." I replied, receiving a warm, somewhat condescending chuckle from Erik.

"Listen... even if they could figure out how to open this mirror, they would get lost in the labyrinth of tunnels beyond. Trust me."

With that he released me and flipping his tail coat out behind him, sat down on his favored divan before me. Something about that action had always fascinated me... and seeing Erik do it was almost mesmerizing. He reached out and took my hands in his own.

"It _will _be alright." He said. "The fact that you worry for my safety in such a way truly moves me, I must say." Then, to my utter surprise he gently, apprehensively pulled me onto his lap. The fact that he felt so comfortable in performing such an action both surprised and delighted me. I knew that what little he had experienced of romance, he had experienced with me. And yet, he seemed to learn with the eagerness of a small child. It seemed as though, while still apprehensive and forever doubting himself, his confidence was growing with every touch, with every action I accepted; every advance I willingly made. "It will be alright." He repeated, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me down to lie against him. I smiled, wanting to dismiss the conversation at hand so that I could lie in his embrace and simply be... But I could not.

"But..."

"What?" He asked; his voice soft and husky. It seemed that he too wanted nothing more than to lie back and lose himself.

"But _why _did you have to show yourself?" I asked, wrapping my arm around his waist and pulling him close. The thought of him being taken away after so much only made me want him to be as close as possible.

"Are... are you ashamed of me?" He asked after a few seconds of thought.

"_No!" _I lifted my head up and looked at him. "Of _course_ not! It's just that it was all... so perfect. And now... I worry for you. _Why _did you _do_ it, Erik?"

"Christine..." He began, sitting up slightly. "I thought it obvious. I did it because I was proud. You told me that you _loved _me. _ME... _of all people. Still, I cannot conceive what I must have done, who I must have tricked to deserve such happiness. But I did not want to hide it. It was... somewhat foolish, I will admit. But by the time I realized, he had already seen me. And I do not regret it. It does not matter what happens to me because of what I have done... I will _never _regret it. I am proud to call you mine Christine Daae and no one has the power to stop me from saying it."

I simply stared at him for a moment before leaning in and placing my lips upon his. He eagerly accepted my advance and ever so tenderly, placed his hands on the sides of my face. I smiled into his mouth as I felt his stubble against my chin, finding it... in a way; attractive.

"But... do you think that... Raoul will alert the authorities?" I asked in between kisses. He inhaled sharply as my hand traveled up the front of shirt and lingered at the top button. I smiled at the reaction I was able to provoke from him. I wanted nothing more than to explore what I had seen earlier but I knew that it was not the time.

"Yes..." He replied, his lips upon my neck. I pulled away abruptly.

He gave me a quizzical look.

"'_Yes?' _What do you mean _yes?"_

"Raoul will go to the authorities. It will be the first thing he will do." He looked away and inclined his head slightly. "Of course he _is _doing it for your safety which... _is _valiant I suppose. But he _has _claimed that I am of danger to you which only serves to anger me..." He looked back at me. "You _know _that I would never hurt you, Christine. Don't you?"

"Erik, what are we to do?_"_

"I told you. They will not find me." He smiled. "But... I suppose that we should be cautious. I will not be able to see you as often as I should like."

I rolled my eyes inwardly. More time apart... I lay back against him once more and took his hand in mine.

"I understand." I said as I began tracing his fingers where they lay just as he had done to mine earlier in his home.

"Do not fret, Môn Ange." He whispered, placing a kiss atop my head. I smiled against his neck. His words were soothing to some degree... but I knew that over the next few days I would do nothing _but _fret. He had come to mean far too much to me...

"Hold me." I said quietly. And with that he wrapped both arms around me, once more enveloping me in his warmth, his heartbeat, his scent. The steady rise and fall of his chest threatened to put me to sleep and I wanted nothing more than to accede to the temptation but I knew that I could not. Not now. Too much was at stake.

"I could fall asleep here." He mumbled.

"As could I..." I replied.

"But we cannot." He said.

"No."

"I should go." He suggested. I could hear the reluctance in his voice.

"I wish you didn't have to..."

"As do I." He smiled. "...But I will see you again soon."

"Promise?"

"It pains me to be away from you, Christine. I will do everything in my power to see you as soon as I possibly can, rest assured."

"When?" I demanded with a pout.

"I cannot plan such things." He smiled. "Tomorrow would be ideal but I cannot promise you anything. I cannot pay you a visit as any other suitor could. I must be strategic. Especially now."

"I know." I sighed. "It's just that after not seeing you for such a long time... and then..."

"This." He finished, reading my find; referring to our intimacy. He placed another kiss atop my head. "It will be difficult."

"Yes."

"But know that I am always watching... I hope that does not seem unsettling. I say it with the most honorable intentions."

"I know you do." I said. Reaching up and placing a small kiss on his lips. He began to return the kiss before pulling away.

"No... I have to go." He said standing up. "I won't be able to stop myself." He said with a laugh.

Reluctantly, I stood up as well and walked him to the mirror.

"Don't wait too long." I said as he opened the mirror and stepped through. I watched in awe as he stepped over the threshold and into the darkness. "How do you _do_ that... by the way?"

He smiled knowingly at me.

"It's a secret, I'm afraid."

"Erik!" I pushed him playfully. He said nothing, only stared at me with a smug expression on his face.

"Are you really not going to tell me?" I asked genuinely. He sighed, feigning boredom before speaking.

"If I must!" He teased. "There is a small lever on the left side. It is extremely hard to find unless you know what you are searching for."

"Ah." I replied in acknowledgement. "Well... I hope you are right."

I really did.

I made my way up to my sleeping quarters, a smile on my face only to be approached by Madame Giry just outside the door.

"Child, are you alright? I was so very worried for you. Did you find him?"

"Yes! Yes, I did." How thoughtless I had been. She had been the reason I had left Erik's lair in the first place and yet the thought had completely slipped my mind. "I found him and... I told him how I felt."

"And what did he say?" She asked, taking my hands. I had never seen her so animated.

"He returned my feelings. We explained ourselves and... sorted everything out. Everything is fine now."I smiled. "Only..."

"Only what?"

"Only... as I was leaving... Raoul saw him."

Her face fell.

* * *

**Raoul**

Was all of this actually happening? Was I trapped inside some kind of opium induced stupor? I could not believe what I had seen; _who _I had seen standing before me.

I reached into my pocket and squeezed the object I had hoped to bestow upon Christine that night; an engagement ring. How could I have been so wrong? How could I have misread her signs so monumentally? I couldn't have. A woman simply did not spend that time with a man without intentions. It was not regular. _He _was not regular. He had to have done something to her to cause her to act in such a way. I had heard stories of his... powers; his abilities. It was quite a real possibility that Christine had agreed to his _farce _of a courtship while she was not of sound mind.

I had to free her. I had to make sure. She meant too much to me for me to simply give up and accept the strange truth; that she had fallen in love with the Opera Ghost. And if she had, I would put a stop to it. I would put a stop to it for her own safety, for her own _sanity. _Surely she knew not what she did... Surely...

I unlocked the dressing room door and stepped back, allowing the troupe of policemen I had summoned to enter before myself. If anyone was able to find a way into that monster's home, it was the Gendarmerie.

"This was the mirror, Vicomte?"

"Yes." I said.

I sat back and allowed them to work their magic.

He would be found.

* * *

**Please review! You cannot imagine how helpful and insightful your comments are.**


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you so much for the support guys! I really, really mean it.

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

We begin with Raouly!

* * *

**Raoul**

And so they searched. They searched for at least an hour and to my utter dismay they found nothing. I directed them to search each and every crevice of that mirror and they could not even discover so much as a clue to what; to _whom_ I was referring.

"Keep searching!" I ordered. "I _know_ that he's _in _there. I _saw _it with my own eyes."

"With all due respect Vicomte..." One of the younger officers turned to me with his eyes cast down and spoke. "Perhaps..."

"Perhaps _what?" _I barked, my eyes narrowed.

"Forgive me... I mean no disrespect but perhaps you did not see what you think you did?" He offered, looking up at me sheepishly.

"_What?!"_ I marched up to the boy indignantly. How dare he offer such a suggestion? "Are you saying that I imagined it? That I am _lying _to you all? That I lured you here under false pretenses? To what end?"

"I'm not saying that at all..." He looked down again. I felt somewhat satisfied. Apparently the Phantom was not the only one who had some aspect of menace to his presence.

"Yes you are."

"Monsieur, the boy isn't trying to falsify your claim." An older officer chimed in. "It is simply that we have been searching this very spot for quite a long time and discovered nothing." He stood up and walked towards me.

"I realisze that." I said. I regretted yelling at the boy but it felt good to be able to voice my anxieties. "I am sorry... Inspector...?" The man before me stuck out his hand.

"Inspector Auguste." He said. I took a deep breath and smiled at Inspector Auguste in spite of my harried state of mind. I took his hand and shook it.

"I am sorry, Inspector Auguste. It is just that I am very worried for my..."

_For my fiancé._

I wanted to say it.

She would have been my fiancé if it weren't for _him._ The man who in spite of his reputation could not even bring himself to face me in person.

Inspector Auguste looked at me expectantly. Apparently my pause had not gone unnoticed.

"I... am worried for my... fiancé, you see." I was filled with shame the moment I uttered the words but worse still was the sickly sense of satisfaction I felt at saying them aloud. Why had I done it? Partly because it felt _good _to say it when I knew that _he _might have been listening. But... I took _pride _in the phrase and it brought me happiness even though the word; fiancé was not mine to use.

"Fiance?" He repeated. I did not flinch. "Congratulations, Monsieur. We will do everything we can to assist in ensuring your fiancés safety."

_What?_

I smiled to myself. Well, if my lie would motivate the police in their search, who was I to correct them? The sooner they found _him, _the sooner Christine would come to her senses. Yes, I hoped that she would eventually find her way into my arms but as long as she was safe from harm... safe from _him,_ anything else was secondary.

"Thank you, Inspector." I shook his hand once more.

"...But." He said reluctantly. He removed his hat and began to pick at the fabric distractedly.

"But...?"

"But my men are tired. And there is nothing more that we can do at this time."

"What..? I..." I began to protest before he made a gesture for me to be silent and guided me to the far side of the room; the entrance to the dressing room where I had first been reunited with my Christine...

"I know." He said quietly. "It is hard to accept. My men are skeptical but I for one have been following the goings on of this establishment in secret. Something as peculiar as this..." He stared at the mirror thoughtfully. "They are never isolated incidents."

"You believe me, then?"

"I do." He said. "But I cannot devote any more men to your cause unless I have reason to. You will need to assist us in this." I took a deep breath and nodded in understanding.

"I... understand, inspector." I said with restraint. He was correct. There was nothing to be done here and I needed to bide my time. This all needed to be planned very carefully if I was to be successful and a man like _him _would not make it easy.

"Good man." He said. "In the meantime do let me know if you find anything... see anything..." He placed his hand on my shoulder and spoke sincerely. "Anything at all."

"Thank you." I said. The inspector turned with a smile and walked back to his men.

"Alright men, time to pack it up..."

I stood at the door and stared into the mirror. I knew that he was there. _Watching. _Always watching. Probably still with that smirk on his masked face. I found myself despising a man whom I hardly knew but I did not care. All I could think of was Christine and how I was going to win her love while simultaneously hunting down the man who threatened to destroy her; destroy me...

I looked at Inspector Auguste. In spite of our 'plan' I felt terribly helpless. When had things changed so drastically between Christine and I? This odd _courtship _had been playing out right before me but I had been too blind to see it. Truthfully I did not know where to begin. I was not an inspector and I knew nothing about the man I was to seek.

When the gendarmerie had left I sat alone in the dressing room. I knew not what time it was and although my pocket watch lay conveniently in my waistcoat pocket I did not care to check it. I sat for what seemed like hours trying to decipher the friendship that had blossomed right under my nose; trying to ascertain just _where _Christine's mind lay. How could she deem it normal to keep the company of such an individual? I knew that he was responsible for killing Buquet. I _knew _it and Christine confirmed it and spoke of it as if it were nothing. As if, against all odds and better judgement, she chose him over me. I, the childhood friend who had never done wrong by her, who had always treated her like the perfect queen that she was, who had never _murdered _anyone was being cast aside for a man... a _thing _like him. Who _was _he? Where had he come from? Above all else I feared for her safety at the hands of a man who she no doubt barely knew herself. I had to find this man and keep him away from her. I could not fathom why he had targeted my Christine as the object of his desire and further still I could not fathom why she had chosen him... but I needed to put a stop to it. I started into the mirror again, almost challenging it; willing the man from within it to emerge.

_I will find you, Ghost. Upon my word I will._

* * *

**Christine**

"What do you mean; 'Raoul saw him?'" Madame Giry questioned, gripping my arm with an intensity that made me quite nervous.

"In the dressing room... I don't know..."

"_What,_ child?" She demanded, almost shaking me.

"He just... stepped out in front of Raoul like it meant nothing! I was furious! And... I still am! He explained himself to me but I still think it was incredibly careless on his part and..."

"Was he... of sound mind when you saw him?"

I inclined my head slightly, questioning her.

"I mean to say... he must have been in quite a state when you left him before..."

"Oh. Nothing like that, no. He was distraught but... I fell in the water and that made things less awkward... well I... I think that I almost drowned... but Erik saved me. And he was panicked but..."

"_WHAT?" _

_"Yes... _Please do not worry! I tried to follow the map that you gave me but... Erik's hand writing is not very legible and I... fell into a trap."

"Christine!" She pulled me into an embrace. "You could have _died!"_

"I know." I said.

"I will _kill _that man!" She spat, pulling away.

"_It wasn't his fault!"_

"I know, I know." She sighed. "Child... what am I going to do with you?!"

I looked at her sheepishly.

"Never mind." She sighed. "I had not even noticed you were wearing different clothes to when I left you. I am thankful to him for caring for you at the very least. Tell me what happened... with Raoul, I mean."

"Well..." I began quietly. "I mean to say that he _was _of sound mind. He was perfectly fine. It was intentional. Later on he told me his motivations behind doing such a thing but I don't know what Raoul will do... Erik thinks that he will go to the authorities."

"He will. If he has not already." She stated plainly, almost accusatory in her tone.

"I'm so very worried, Madame. Erik keeps telling me not to worry, but how can I _refrain _from worry when so much is at stake_?" _I threw my hands up quite dramatically and began to pace the expanse of the corridor outside the sleeping quarters. "He can be so frustrating!"

"Erik's home is quite well hidden..." Madame Giry turned away thoughtfully. "But... I would still proceed with caution. Do not make an effort to see him over the next few weeks."

"No, I won't. He already warned me against it."

"Good." She drew her hand to her face, apparently deep in thought. "This could be very bad. Very bad indeed."

"I _know!"_

"Out of interest, child... what were his reasons?"

"For revealing himself?"

She nodded.

"In his home I told him that I loved him and... he said that he didn't want to hide the fact any longer. He had seen Raoul and I spending time together and I suppose it was jealousy... a sense of ownership... which doesn't altogether please me."

Madame Giry smiled.

"He has never known love." She said. "It won't be easy for him to adjust to something most of us take for granted."

"What do you mean...? Was he _never _loved? Not even as a child?"

"I shouldn't say any more, Christine. Those answers are his to give. Not mine." I stared at the women before me; a mixture of frustration and admiration for her respect for Erik. But in spite of what he would have wanted I needed to know more...

"I... know that you and he are acquainted..." I ventured. "When I was in his home I... caught sight of his back and I saw..."

"Hush." She interrupted. "You must ask _him." _

"Alright..." I said with disappointment. I knew _that _would be easier said than done. Erik was not exactly an open book when it came to his past.

"You should sleep..." She said quietly. "As should I. I have a lot to think about on what you have told me and... I have been up waiting for you. I'm quite fatigued."

"I'm very sorry, Madame. I lose track of time when..."

_When I'm with him._

Madame Giry smiled knowingly.

"I understand. You have always had your head in the clouds, Christine... up there with the Angels."

_The Angel of Music..._

I smiled bashfully as I always did when she made such a remark.

"You should speak to Meg when you wake. She was quite worried about you." She turned to walk away.

"She knows..." I spoke. The two words seemed to linger in the air longer than they should have and at once I wondered whether or not I should have spoken them at all.

"She..?" Madame Giry turned back and looked at me. I nodded. She walked back to me and spoke in a low whisper.

"As much as I love my daughter, I do not think it wise to trust Meg with secrets."

"I trust her." I said. She simply gave me a stern look before turning on her heel once more and disappearing into the darkness that engulfed the sleeping quarters. I did trust her... But Madame Giry had never been wrong before.

The unfriendly sensation of anxiety began to build within me...

* * *

**Erik**

Strangely as soon as I had left Christine I was able to fall into a soundless slumber; quite unusual as I hardly ever slept at night. I lay in bed, prepared to think on the events that had transpired; dissect them at length as I usually did but within moments I was asleep. It was the first proper allotment of rest I had been able to achieve since I left Christine on the stairwell those many weeks ago.

I could not believe that Christine was able to forgive me, even if she was not yet able to forget. It was unfortunate that an event such as what happened... or what almost happened had to take place, but without it I might still have been trapped in the depths of despair; locked in the never-ending spiral of self-loathing that I so often found myself. Yes. Christine's mishap brought us together. I felt shame upon admitting it to myself but I was also too incandescently happy to care. It seemed that I was too worried about losing her to care what had transpired between us... and it seemed that she had undergone some sort of transition from loathing and fearing me to wanting to be in my presence so dearly that she would risk her life.

I was not trying to fool myself. I knew that she was still afraid of me; at least part of her was. And I knew that because of what I had done that might never change. But I had to be grateful any triumph no matter the size. She wanted to embrace me and kiss me as if nothing had changed and I did not care to question the motivation behind it. Not for the moment. Perhaps not ever.

And I knew that because of my foolishness I could not see her as much as I liked but she was _mine. _She wanted to be in my company more than she wanted to be in that _boy's _and that was all I needed. Truthfully I could not help myself. Some animalistic urge had momentarily come over me and I saw the pressing need to claim what was mine. She _loved _me. I could not believe it and I did not want to hide it. The boy needed to know to stop pursuing her. He needed to know before a tragedy befell him...

Yes, I found myself slightly troubled by the potential repercussions of what I had done but how could I think on those after what had happened?

I awoke early in the morning; a smile began to spread across my face as I remembered that waking up this morning was different to any other.

I was loved.

I sat up and stretched, looking at my surroundings with a familiar loathing that soon turned to disgust. I was a new man. I had to clean the mess; the chaos I had created. I walked out of my bedroom and began to wander toward the bathroom. En route to the bathroom I caught sight of my reflection in one of my mirrors; more specifically some of the shards that remained in one of my mirror frames. I walked closer being careful not to step on any of the pieces still littering the floor and peered at my reflection. It was awful; worse than usual. It was beyond me how Christine could have declared her feelings for me when I looked so utterly bedraggled. I had not shaved in days, and it was evident. I had lost my appetite at some point over the past weeks and that was evident too; my frame was not what it used to be. I caught sight of what was once a cut on my side; left my Buquet's dagger during our... incident; now a thin, white scar and a constant reminder of what I had done. The only thing that was a constant was my ghastly face. And she had not yet seen that... if she had she would not have returned...

I scratched my head thoughtfully. I could not change that. But I could change everything else. I would be the best man that I could be for Christine and I would begin with my appearance.

After I had dressed I walked back to the offending mirror; glass crunching under my boots as I did. This was what she remembered. This was the best that I could look... the best it was going to get...

After making a point to eat breakfast I began cleaning up my home; attempting to return it to it's former glory... if it could be called that. Christine had seemed quite at ease in my home until I had spoiled it all. With every drape that I picked up, every ornament that I recovered I thought of her; what she would like, where she would prefer it... Among my ruins I discovered a book discarded underneath various papers. Upon inspecting the title I realized at once what it was; it was the book I had given to Christine as a gift. And she had accepted it gratefully before I had bestowed her with another; the truth.

I set it aside. I would return it to her.

After a few hours of cleaning I found that I missed her. I checked my pocket watch;

_1:30_

She would be performing in the matinee of Il Muto. In my absence she had been returned to her role as a member of the chorus; this was unfortunate and something I would definitely action but for now it seemed opportune.

I could visit her; hide back stage and emerge when it was safe. Before I had determined whether or not it was a sensible idea I had decided upon it. I _had _to see her. I had wasted so much time without her... I didn't want to waste any more.

I made my way up to the auditorium. I hardly ever emerged during the day and I knew that it was dangerous. While I wanted nothing more than to be ignorant of my surroundings and wholeheartedly give in to what I was feeling, I could not. I had to be vigilant; more so now than before. I made my way up to Christine through the walls; something I despised and had not done since I was much younger but in the light of day and while the theater was full, it was the only option. I exited through a small door I had made for myself many years ago; not visible to the untrained eye and behind a series of props that had not been moved or used since I had arrived at the Opera as a child. I usually cursed the management for their untidy and disorganized ways but today I was thankful.

I stood in the shadows of the wings and watched. It took my eyes a moment to focus before I saw her. My breath caught in my chest as it always did and once more there was a smile upon my face that I could not have removed if I wanted to. I folded my arms and stared in silent awe at the woman who had captured my heart; she was dancing beautifully but it did not compare to the talent of her voice. How I yearned to hear it. It had been too long.

I knew this Opera well and knew that during this scene I would get my chance. One by one the girls of the chorus exited stage left and right in sequence, I was careful to remain soundless and hidden. Christine was the last to exit on my side; this I had not planned but for once it seemed that fate was working in my favor.

"Christine..." I whispered.

Immediately she spun around; out of breath and red faced from the exertion of dance. She looked so beautiful. Her eyes searched the darkness until I stepped out apprehensively; just enough for her to see me.

"...Erik." She beamed before throwing herself into my arms. I clung to her tightly and closed my eyes. It felt so good to be in her arms once more and I felt a small sense of relief wash over me. Part of me still doubted her; still wondered whether or not she would change her mind about me at any second. "I thought you said we couldn't meet?" She asked, pulling away and looking up at me.

"I couldn't wait. Do not worry..." I said softly, tracing her chin with a gloved thumb. "I am taking care... You look so beautiful."

She smiled bashfully.

"And you look much better... handsome I daresay."

Again, my breath caught in my chest; this time at the strange words I had heard. No one had ever paid me a compliment before, certainly not in relation to my looks. Ordinarily I would have found it laughable, but Christine had said it with such sincerity that I did not wish to mock her.

"You don't need to say that, my dear."

"I know that I don't _need _to."

"Well, at any rate this is as good as it will get for me." I smiled. Self deprecating humor had always been my strong suit. Christine frowned in reply before reaching up and stroking the left side of my face. I leaned in to her touch and closed my eyes.

"When... will you tell me about your mask?" She asked. The words she spoke knocked me from my delirious state and I opened my eyes abruptly.

"What?" I pulled away from her touch slightly. Yes, I had forgiven her for removing my mask during our first encounter but I had not forgotten. I was not ready; I could not allow her to strip me of my last defense. After that I would be truly lost; truly hers to do with as she pleased and when she decided that she did not want me I would be broken once and for all. Suddenly a stage hand walked past. I pulled her into the shadows and held her against me. If either of us was seen I would have nowhere to go.

"What do you mean by that, Christine?" I whispered. Although the music from the orchestra was quite loud I could not risk anyone hearing our voices. Once La Carlotta began singing there would be no danger of that whatsoever...

"I won't remove it." She said. "Not unless I have your permission. I promise that." She reached up and stroked the side of the mask. I found myself involuntarily pulling away from her touch; something I thought that I would never do. "I... just want to know." She said absentmindedly.

No, I could not show her. But there couldn't be much harm in telling her, could there? I owed her that much after what I had put her through. I had to gain her trust and this was a good way to begin... Regardless I was not looking forward to it.

"I... we can't talk about it now." I said, subtly taking her hand in my own and holding it against my chest... away from my face... "You have to go before someone misses you. I've kept you here too long."

"Tonight? Will you tell me tonight?"

I rolled my eyes inwardly. I had hoped to discourage her.

"I... will tell you tonight." I said reluctantly. She wrapped her arms around me once more and I smiled into her curls. "But do not seek me out, remember? I will come to you. It is not safe and now we risk you being followed..."

"_I know, I know_." She replied, apparently bored.

"What is this attitude, Mademoiselle?" I teased with a dry chuckle.

"I've been spending far too much time with the Opera Ghost, I expect." She quipped with a smile. I felt slightly uneasy at her reference.

"Perhaps." I said with the ghost of a smile.

"I wish I could stay here." She said with her hands on my chest; apparently fascinated with the texture of my lapels. She always fiddled when she said or did something that made her feel awkward; I found it adorable.

"As do I." I said. "I would prefer you to stay here rather than finish the show... But what sort of tutor would that make me?"

"A _great _one." She said with a smile. I felt myself shiver as she ran her hands up my front and pulled my head down slightly to meet her own. There, she lingered. I felt her warm breath mingling with my own as our foreheads touched. "Kiss me..." She whispered.

"I... can't." I replied with my eyes closed. "Not here." She did not understand. I could not risk losing myself in her kiss... not where I was. At that moment I felt deep loathing for my surroundings; the walls, the people... for they all prevented me from taking what I wanted. What I _yearned _to have.

"Kiss me, Erik." She repeated, smiling against my lips. It was deliciously torturous trying to resist and she knew it. She was very much aware of the power she had over me. I knew that now. I was up against the wall behind me, pulling away from something I desperately wanted. But I did not have a choice. One more thoughtless move on my part and she might be taken from me forever. Nothing was worth that. She knew of the dangers and yet she would not release me.

"T...tonight." I managed. Suddenly, my salvation; Meg's voice.

"_Christine?"_ It called from somewhere within the wings. Christine turned toward the source of the voice and I took the opportunity to slip away. When she turned back I would be gone. Once behind the safety of the familiar, discarded scenery I watched her once more. She turned back to where I had been just moments before and smiled. She then drew her hand to her mouth as if we _had _shared the kiss and watching her, I did the same.

By the time little Meg had reached her I was safely hidden within the walls. I stood in the darkness with my back to the door and took a deep breath. I rubbed my arms to rid myself of the goose-flesh that had now spread over my skin and began my usual descent; the long journey to my home... There would be plenty of time for me to figure out how I was to see Christine later on. This time I had been lucky. I knew that. I had to be more careful.

What I felt for this woman...

It frightened me...

What frightened me more was the thought of losing her.

* * *

**Fluff! :) I love writing Awks Erik.**

**Please review. It is honestly so helpful and it brightens my day when i get a wee little email notification telling me that people are still reading/ enjoying my story.**


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you for the support, friends! I loved the reviews for the last chapter!

This one was fun to write...

I'll leave it at that.

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

Christine

When I turned back he was gone. I smiled to myself and brought my fingers up to trace my lips... as if we _had _kissed. I could still feel his breath on my face; warm and inviting... tantalizing. I could have kissed him. I could have. But I wanted _him _to kiss _me. _I wanted him to have the confidence and assertion; I wanted him to be in control. He was always in control... except when we were intimate. I wanted to test him... and then when he told me that he _couldn't _kiss me I could not help but play with him a little. Truthfully I could not see the harm in sharing one kiss with our stolen moment but he was doing everything he could to resist such an urge. I enjoyed the fact that I had power over him in some way; enjoyed how I was able to make him feel. He could do the same to me... when he wanted.

When Meg approached I was still locked in that moment with Erik. I knew that he would keep to his promise and see me that very night and so I was not worried when he suddenly disappeared. In truth I was surprised to see him at all given how worried he was. As soon as he was gone I longed for his presence. I had forgotten where I was; forgotten that I was in the middle of an opera performance. Perhaps this was what he was talking about when he spoke of losing himself...

And we had not even kissed...

How I longed to lose myself with him... Lose myself in a place where there were no time constraints, no danger... Nobody cared who or where we were... we could just be...

But something like that could not happen...

"Christine... what are you doing here? We must get changed for the next..."

Meg looked at me, her brows knitted together quizzically.

"What are you doing?" She repeated. I realized that I was simply facing a wall... not particularly looking at anything. It must have seemed quite strange indeed.

"I... I was..."

Meg's eyes widened excitedly as the realization dawned on her.

"You were with _him _weren't you?"

"What..? Who?"

"Christine... I have not forgotten what you told me. You went missing last night too. Maman was very worried about you. As was I. And... when I saw you this morning you seemed different; you seemed like your old self again. I didn't want to say anything... I thought it may have been Raoul?"

"Raoul? No!"

"I know." She smiled. "This was how you were acting before... when you told me that..." She cast her eyes down and moved closer to me. "Do you think it wise though? To be spending time with him when... he did what you said he did?"

"He isn't a bad person, Meg. He would never hurt me..."

Meg smiled.

"Come on, we need to get changed! Tell me on the way!"

"I'm sorry Meg." I began as she took my arm in hers and we hurried toward the change rooms. "I had meant to tell you everything but it all resolved itself last night... and it happened so fast..."

"That's alright! Does this mean that he will be escorting you to the ball?"

The ball. Of course... the Masquerade Ball. Was it that time of year already?

"Well... I..." Of course he could not escort me to the ball. What was Meg thinking? He was the Opera Ghost... but of course... it _was _a Masquerade. If there was any event he could attend it would be this one. It would be lovely. I did not want to be escorted by anyone else... It was just a matter of asking him. No doubt he knew it was approaching; he knew all that transpired beneath his roof. But then... why had he not asked me? My stomach sank. Perhaps now that he _had _my affections... he did not want them?

"I... I would like to but... I don't know that it would be wise."

"Oh, why _not?_ It is a Bal Masque, is it not? He could be disguised... It is said that he wears a mask anyway... is this true?"

"Yes... its true but..."

_But Raoul has already seen it._

I could think of a million and one reasons not to mention the ball to Erik... but in spite of those protestations I found myself _wanting _to ask him; wanting to go with him... wanting to appear at the top of the grand escalier on his arm. My selfishness outweighed my good sense.

I would ask him...

"Tell me what he is like! I want to know everything!" She continued excitedly, pulling me closer as we rushed through the wings of the stage; past bewildered stage hands and miscellaneous props.

"Ah... where do I start?" I smiled. Erik was such a complex person. He had so many aspects to him... and many more I was yet to learn. He was so gentle and chivalrous, attentive and caring... and I could not help but blush when I thought of the physical attributes I should not have seen... His chest... His arms... Living in a theater had made me somewhat impervious to shock when it came to the male anatomy but this was different... They had been more than pleasing to the eye and the fact that I should not have seen them made it all the more intriguing. Then I thought of his face... what I could see of it I thought to be uncommonly handsome... but what of the other half? What of the mask that he would not speak of?

I would find out soon enough...

"Well Christine?" Meg pressed. It was then that I realized I had not been speaking aloud; merely lost in my own thoughts once more. How _could _I voice what had just gone through my head? I felt my cheeks flush with warmth at the mere thought of it.

"Sorry..." I stammered. "Well... he..."

"Girls!" I turned to the source of the voice to see Madame Giry rushing towards us, skirt in hand and a stern look on her face. "What are you two doing? You must change!"

* * *

Erik

That night I waited until it was quite late to see Christine. I hadn't told her when to expect me but even so I felt the need to reprimand myself for not making solid plans with her. It seemed terribly presumptuous and informal of me simply to call on her when I saw fit but it was the way it had to be... at least for a while and I think that she understood that. After our rendezvous in the wings of the stage I made my way back down to my home; always in the shadows. Ever vigilant... ever invisible; ever the Phantom. This time called for it more than ever. Ordinarily I would not mind so much... but if I were caught now everything I had with Christine would be taken from me. I knew very well that if caught I would be hanged. There was little chance of a trial for someone like me... and I was not ready to meet my end at the gallows. Not yet. I had so much more living to do; so much more to experience with her before I met my end.

On my way down I caught sight of Raoul speaking with the Gendarmerie. He was determined...

But he would never find what he was looking for.

Once in my home I sat down at my organ as I usually did and began to tinker with the keys absentmindedly as I thought of a way to see her. I gazed down at the book I had given her; sitting on my writing desk ready for her.

_Scandinavian Folk Lore_

I smiled as I remembered her face upon seeing the book. Her father had brought her so much happiness...

_Her father..._

_The chapel..._

That was it. Christine always visited the chapel after dinner. I would have to be careful as always but no one else usually visited the chapel save for four or five of the chorus girls and they were already frightened of me... or at least the _idea _of me; something that always proved useful.

The hours seemed to stretch on. How had spent years in solitude with nothing but my own company and interests to occupy myself? I had created for myself a world of magic and art and music... the perfect world that simply did not exist above. I had done it... and I _was _doing it. The very idea of it still filled me with comfort and joy... only now I wished for someone else to accompany me on my island of dreams. Only one other person... Now all I seemed to do was fill the time between seeing Christine and if I could spend a few hours without completely and utterly dwelling on the idea of her, the afternoon was a success.

What had I become?

With all of my hobbies I already had more than enough activities to fill my time... it was just...

_Her..._

Finally it was time to head to the chapel. After checking myself in the mirror once, albeit reluctantly I made my way up...

The hallways leading to chapel were dark as they always were, but it was Winter and the sun had long but set. The only light visible was provided by the single candle, presumably lit by Christine and sitting just above a picture of her father. And just as I had hoped, sitting in front of the candle was Christine... the flame licked at her skin gently and for a few moments I was transfixed... unable to speak.

I cleared my throat.

"Good evening, Mademoiselle..." I spoke softly.

She spun around, eyes wide. Of course, she could not see in the darkness as I could. How selfish of me.

"It is me." I said with a smirk, thankfully not visible to her.

"I know." She said, smiling and turning around.

"And how is that?" I asked, walking closer to her.

"I've been hearing your voice for a long time now, Erik."

I smiled. Of course she had...

"You still come here every night..." I said.

"Yes. It is the only place I know where to find him..." She replied wistfully. "And... now that I know that... he didn't send me an angel... I find myself drifting away from him."

"I'm so sorry, Christine."

"I know." She said. "You don't have to keep saying it... Perhaps it was time to grow up anyway."

I knelt down next to her in the darkness.

"Never let anyone convince you that you have to do anything you don't want to... You don't have to grow up just because people say that you must. I had to grow up before my time and... I never had a real childhood." I stopped myself before I digressed too much. "What I mean is... you can be whoever you want to be. It does not matter to me."

She touched my face gently. Evidently now that I was kneeling down next to her she was able to see me as clearly as I could see her.

"Thank you." She said softly. "But... it isn't about other people. I think that... you did come to me for a reason. Perhaps you came to me and... _revealed _yourself to me because somehow I _needed _you to. It was time to let him go..." A tear slid down her porcelain face. "I wish to go to the cemetery soon... to visit him; say my goodbyes. Will you... come with me?"

"Of course, Mon Ange. Whatever you need from me I will give to you." I was honored that she would ask me at all given everything.

Christine looked back to her father's picture.

"I think that he would have liked you... he was a musician, you know."

"Yes..." I said, still staring at her. I smiled and held her hand in my own. "You told me."

"Yes..." She said, hardly a response to me... more to herself. It seemed that she was entranced by her father; by the flickering light above his picture. I however was entranced by her. I had never been religious. Lighting candles and praying to the night sky seemed trivial in light of the life I had lived...

But _she _was _my _redemption. In my eyes, Christine was everything good in the world and she had saved me in more ways than one.

"Shall we go?" I offered softly. She nodded silently. I stood up and dusted my pants before offering her my hand.

As soon as we had exited the chapel I felt her tug me backward.

"What is it?" Immediately I feared she had seen or heard something...

She pulled me closer with a smile.

"You owe me a kiss." She cooed. Regretfully I let out a nervous laugh at the word but before I could condemn myself for such a juvenile action she had pulled my face down towards hers and captured my lips with her own. Immediately I wrapped my arms around her and closed my eyes. God, I loved her. How I had waited to experience such a thing once more. But it was still not safe. It would have to wait until my home...

"Stop..." I mumbled against her mouth.

"Why..." She replied.

"Not here." I pulled away but I made no effort to stop. I don't think I would have had it not been for the voices heard behind us; only drunken chorus members but people all the same. She pulled away with a quiet laugh and I found myself laughing along. I felt so silly... but I was enjoying it. My heart swelled with giddy happiness as I rushed her away as if it were all a childish game of hide and seek. At that moment were just like any of the other couples seen enjoying each other in the corners of the Opera corridors...

Weren't we?

Once down in my home I removed my cape and helped her out of the boat.

"Have you eaten?" I offered. I could not believe how relaxed I felt; not myself at all. I felt... normal. "I could prepare you something? I haven't had the chance to purchase much but I have some bread if you are hungry."

"I'm fine." She smiled. "Thank you." She looked around nervously. Why was she quiet? Had I done something wrong between the chapel and now? Had she changed her mind?

"What's wrong?" I questioned, slightly crestfallen. "Have you... changed your mind about tonight?"

"No, no! Not at all!"

"We... can do another night. If you'd like." It would disappoint me greatly if she agreed but I had to give her the option. It was my home... but I wanted her to feel as comfortable as if it were hers. Perhaps one day it would be?

"No... really." She walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. "It isn't that at all." It couldn't be anything terrible if she was still willing to touch me. I relaxed slightly and placed my hands on her waist.

"What is it, Mon Ange?" I asked, staring down at her. She was so beautiful...

"Well... I wish to ask something of you... only I don't know quite _how _to ask it." Was she blushing?

"You know that I am powerless before your requests, Christine. What is it that you want of me? It shall be yours."

"Alright..." She said hesitantly. I could tell that she was struggling with whatever she needed to ask me and it only served to make me more curious. "Are you free this Saturday evening?"

At this I laughed audibly.

"No, I am afraid not. I am afraid I have already committed myself to a number of other engagements."

She stared at me then, apparently not quite seeing my humor. I laughed again.

"Of course I am free." I joked. At that she seemed to smile. Then it occurred to me. This Saturday was New Years Eve; The Masquerade Ball. She was going to ask me to take her to the Masquerade Ball. How was I to tell her that I was already attending? During the endlessly torturous weeks without Christine I had begun writing my Opera. Originally I had planned to coerce the company to perform said Opera with Christine as the lead role. The Opera was to be an ode to Christine and I. It expressed how I felt about her; everything I could not say... I had even played with the idea of casting myself as the leading male; something that could never be possible. At the Ball I would present the work to the managers along with instructions as to how it would play out. Originally I had formulated this plan in the depths of despair and I will admit that I was not of sound mind at the time. Even so the idea to perform it had never left me; Christine would still be cast in the leading role and it would still serve to express to Christine all that I felt for her. But my plan could not possibly work with Christine in my presence. I had official Opera Ghost business to attend to and I needed to keep that part of my life separate to her...

I treasured the sentiment, of course... no one had ever bestowed on me such a gift but I had to refuse.

"Well... I was wondering whether you might..." She bit her lip. "...whether you would consider... escorting me to the Bal Masque?"

Immediately after speaking she looked up at me; desperate for an answer, desperate for anything that would ease the awkward atmosphere she felt she had created. It _was _awkward, but it had nothing to do with her.

I sighed and slowly pulled her hands down from my neck.

"Christine..."

"You don't wish to go?"

"No it... It isn't that..."

"It _is _that. I know... what you might be thinking." She took my hand in hers. "...but... it's a Masquerade! You... won't be seen. For once we can be _out _together and no one will care."

"_Out? _What do you mean by that?" I pulled my hand from hers. "I know that _this _is not ideal for courting Christine but it's all I have. If you wish to be _out _with someone then perhaps you should speak to your _boy." _She looked at me icily and immediately I regretted my words.

"That was uncalled for." She said plainly.

"I know. _I know. _It's just that I _know _that this isn't good enough for you." I waved my hand in gesture to my home. "That _I _am not good enough for you and sometimes when you say things it really makes me think that you... want to change your mind. I constantly have doubts..."

"I know." She said. She took my hand again. "I know that you _want _to escort me."

"I want nothing more."

"Then just_ do it!" _

"I _cannot!" _

_"__Why?" _She pressed, pulling at my hand like a petulant child.

"I... have Opera Ghost business to attend to." I knew that she wouldn't want to hear that but it was the truth.

"...What does that mean?" She eyed me suspiciously.

"I have to present the managers with something to perform; an Opera." I pointed to the Organ. "The one you saw me composing when you were last here. The company is to perform it and I have certain instructions I wish to deliver with it. I have to reveal myself that night. I have to stand before the managers for the first time... before _everyone _ for the first time and if they remember seeing you with me... it could be a great danger to both of us. I'm sorry, Christine. I really am."

"Well... why is this Opera so important? Is it more important than me?"

"Nothing is more important than you but... this Opera _is _important to me. And I have been gone too long, and so it _has_ to be done in person. I have to know that they still fear me."

"_Fear _you? Why do they have to fear you?"

"It is the only way, Christine." Why didn't she understand? The world _had _to fear me. When I was a child I swore that I would feel no fear; that I would inflict it on others. It was how I had gotten by... Kindness did not get me things; fear did.

"The only way for what? Why can't you just leave the Opera Ghost behind, Erik? It isn't who you are anymore."

"_It is, though_!" Christine jumped. I hadn't meant to raise my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was frighten her... "I'm sorry." I pulled her into an embrace. "It... has to be sometimes. As long as I am here... it has to be."

She took a deep breath.

"Well... perhaps... we could leave together? After your Opera is performed?" What could she possibly mean?

"...Leave?"

"Yes..." She said, looking up at me. "We could... leave together." Where would we go? I hadn't left the Opera in years.

"You would... do that for me?" I asked sincerely.

"I would do that _with _you." She said, holding me tightly. "Please, Erik. Escort me to the Ball? I would want no one else."

"I just don't see how it could work." She looked down and nodded.

But I knew that she hadn't given up... I had at least delayed the conversation and I wanted to celebrate this small triumph but I could see another question on her lips. I knew what this one would be and while I was dreading it... I _had _told her that I would address it and I was nothing if not a man of my word.

"So... earlier today... you said that you would..."

"You wish to know about the mask." I said sternly.

"I... I'm sorry, it's just that you said..."

"I know. I'm not angry. You wish to know. Understandably so... Come. Let us sit down. Would you like some wine?" I led her over to the piano bench.

"...Just a glass." She answered apprehensively.

"Alright. One moment." I stood up and took a deep breath. When I returned she would ask me. When I returned I would have to explain myself. I loosened my cravat; suddenly finding my surroundings to be increasingly stuffy. "I trust that red is alright?" I called.

"Whatever you suggest." She said faintly. "I told you, I don't often drink wine."

I returned with a new bottle and two glasses. After taking a sip and another deep breath I sat down next to her on my bench and spoke.

"Alright. Ask me."

She looked at me; a shocked expression upon her face. Almost as if she hadn't expected me to address it so quickly.

"I... alright." I saw that she was taking a deep breath herself. What did she have to e nervous about?

"It is alright, Christine." I reassured her. "Just ask me." She looked down before speaking.

"Why do you wear the mask?"

"I wear it because I... I wish to hide myself." I answered craftily.

"But why?" Who was I trying to fool? I had to tell her. I took another sip of wine.

"I wear a mask because... I... was born with a deformity." I answered simply.

I was surprised when she nodded in understanding.

"And so you feel the need to wear something to cover it?"

I laughed cynically.

"_I _don't feel any need. It is world who sees the need to hide my ugliness. The world does not want to see, Christine. Please do not ask me to divulge anything else just yet... I am not ready to revisit my past."

"I wish that you would show me..." She whispered.

"I thought that you would ask me that. Please know that I would give you anything you asked for. Anything else..."

"You will not show me."

"Please try to understand." I began. "It is hard for me. In the past I have been... made to show my face... and the reactions were always the same..."

_"__Made_?"

"That is all I will say on that."

"Erik, I don't want to ask something of you that you don't feel comfortable giving. But... please don't keep this from me. I want us to start anew; to tell one another everything. To feel completely comfortable in the presence of one another..."

"If that is what you seek, Christine. I may never make you happy. I have secrets that... I have not divulged to anyone and truthfully I don't know that I ever will. I do not mean to hurt you by saying this and please know that I would never keep something from you that would harm you; it is quite the opposite." Christine listened attentively. "I keep things from you because some things should not be heard; repeated, relived. It would kill me to know that... saying this would prevent you from seeing me any further but you need to know this now. I will never be... normal. I will never be perfect. I am broken and as much as you redeem me just by being the wondrous person you are... I will always _be _broken because of the life I have lived." She looked at me and spoke the three words that threatened to break me every time I heard them.

"I love you." She said. She reached up and touched the left side of my face. I held her hand and leaned into it.

"God, I love you." I said; my voice quavering with emotion. I loved her for who she was... and I loved her for loving _me_.

"Let me... try to fix you." She said. Those words almost made it seem possible. With that she reached up with both hands and ever so slowly removed my mask...

I did not stop her; I did not even protest. I was frozen where I was; in awe at her healing words; her healing hands. It was almost as if with her I _was _handsome. Perhaps there was no deformity at all? Perhaps it had all been a terrible nightmare and this was my real life?

My eyes were closed...

They did not open until I felt her small, soft hands touching the right side of my face; the side that had not been touched by another living soul; the side that predetermined my life before I had taken my first breath, the side that had made me who I was. To my utter surprise her fingers were exploring the contours of my horrid face; caressing the planes, the irregularities that made me so... _unique... _

_..._And it felt glorious.

I searched her face for a reaction; searched her eyes for fear, disgust... her eyes had filled with tears but she was smiling. Perhaps it was pity but I did not care.

She was smiling.

She was not laughing.

She was not screaming.

She was not running.

She was smiling.

This gave me the confidence I needed to reveal everything... Slowly I reached up and pulled the black wig from atop my head. It fell to the ground. Christine simply watched as my defenses crumbled around me. Her expression did not change. She reached up and stroked my hair; copper in hue, not black as she had thought... as I had almost come to believe.

"You... are beautiful." She said softly.

At these words I choked a sob. Pathetic... but I did not have a care. I brought my hand to her face; un-gloved I was permitted to revel in her warmth as she had presumably reveled in mine. A tear escaped my eye and I had to choke back another sob when she reached up to wipe it.

"Kiss me, Erik." She repeated. Unlike when she had said it to me, hidden in the wings of the stage I needed no coercion. Those words were all I needed. I captured her mouth hungrily. Our kiss deepened as I pulled her onto my lap. The pipe organ behind me sounded loudly as I was pushed onto the keys. We both jumped slightly and laughed at ourselves before continuing the kiss. Deciding that neither of us cared to experience such a surprise again I whisked her up and carried her to her bedroom. I lay her down on the bed as I had done on her first night with me. Only this time she captured my mouth once more and pulled me down onto the bed. Again we laughed as I fell quite clumsily on top of her.

She pushed me onto my back and I did not care to protest. Her deft fingers removed my cravat and within seconds I felt something unlike anything I had ever experienced; her perfect lips placing kisses on my neck. She began just behind my ear. Her warm breath tickled the skin there and I felt her smile against me as I suppressed a chuckle. It was maddeningly pleasurable. She pushed my jacket off my shoulders as her lips moved down my neck. I could not move. I wanted to kiss her in return; bestow the same pleasure on her but I could not... I felt her hands working at my waistcoat as her lips reached my collarbone.

Soon, my waistcoat had met the same fate as my jacket; discarded on the floor of my home and soon my shirt would meet the same end. In truth, I did not care. Never in my life had I had such little regard for my own clothing...

* * *

**Well..? ;)**


	17. Chapter 17

Hello! I have finished the semester! Yay! More time for writing! Please review, friends. I loved the ones i received for the previous chapter and found them really motivational and helpful. :)

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

* * *

Christine

"Kiss me, Erik..." I repeated, hoping that he would recall my saying it earlier. Consciously, I had been yearning for this moment since then, but subconsciously; for much longer. As soon as the words had escaped me his lips were upon mine. As he carried me to the bed I began to remove his clothes; eager to see more, to taste more...

His body arched against mine as I lay on top of him and deepened our kiss. Every now and then I would look up to see his reaction and each time I was far from disappointed; his eyes were closed; a look of uneasy ecstasy upon his face. They were all devices which simply urged me to continue, told me that whatever I was doing, he was enjoying as much as I was. His grip on me tightened as my kisses moved under his jaw and down his neck. I felt him squirm slightly and inhale sharply as I reached a sensitive spot just behind his ear but I did not stop; selfishly I continued devouring his skin, any new area; a conquest... a triumph.

I began removing his clothes as I kissed him and he did little to protest. I began unbuttoning his shirt, placing kisses down his chest and stomach as I went. Part of me was lost in what I was doing... but part of me almost felt out of place; as if I was outside of myself looking down. What we were doing felt so unfamiliar and yet so natural. I had never done anything like it before and yet I felt so comfortable; so in control... I felt him shiver beneath me as my fingers accidentally brushed his nipple, smiling to myself I continued my kisses there, evoking a moan in response.

"Christine..." he growled. I smiled against his chest, pleased with myself. As I moved back up his body I felt his hands take hold of my hips... and as I felt him move against me I felt a sensation in the pit of my stomach and downward... unfamiliar yet warm, pleasurable in its urgency.

I began to move against him intentionally, and the feeling grew more intense. The experience heightened only by the fact that this was really _him. _He was no longer hiding from me. Each time I opened my eyes I saw his face; his _whole _face, but I was neither frightened nor disgusted by what I saw. I simply accepted it as part of him; part of this man before me...

We began to move in unison as I brought my lips back up to his mouth. Suddenly he pulled away...

"No..." He breathed against me. "We can't. We have to stop."

"What? Why?" I protested.

"This isn't right, Christine. It shouldn't be done this way."

"What... do you mean?" I asked, tucking my hair behind my ear irritably. I sat up. Erik sat up slightly too, leaning against his elbows and looking up at me for the first time, without his mask. Perhaps he'd been too caught up in it all to feel insecure about it, or perhaps he'd forgotten.

"I mean that you mean _more_ to me than this." He said sincerely. I was confused. If I meant so much to him why did he want to stop?

"You... you don't want me? Have I done something wrong?"

"Christine! How can you say that! You have no idea how much I... _want _you." He ran his hand through his sparse, brown hair. "You have... _no _idea how hard it was to stop just now. But... If we are to do this, it has to be the right way. I am nothing, if not a gentleman."

Then I understood. I did... And I regretted my petulance but I wanted him just as much as he wanted me... whatever those words entailed. And he had awakened in me something that I'd never felt before; never knew existed. What was I to do now? Things were different. I wanted to kiss him all the time but I could not if it led to something I could not have; something we could not do.

"I understand..." I pouted. "And I appreciate it... but to hell with propriety, Erik!"

"Don't say that, Christine. You don't know the true extent of your words. I will not spoil you."

"_Spoil_?"

"Yes! I have only honorable intentions and there is only one first time..." He sat up further. "Are you... are you sure that you even wish for it to be with _me_?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. When would he understand?

I bent down and placed small kisses on the right side of his face; a reminder that I could still see it and a reminder that I had not changed my mind in spite of it.

"I want _you_..." I whispered. From his deformity I moved back to his jaw, then behind his ear again. He laughed slightly before gently pushing me away.

"No, no. We need to stop. Don't make it any harder for me." He smiled. "If you truly want... _me_, then we have to wait."

"Alright." I sighed, rolling off him and lying next to him on the bed. "How long do we have to wait?" To my disappointment he swung his legs off the side of the bed and began to button his shirt. All my hard work... undone...

"Well, I would need to sort some things out first..." he began apprehensively.

"_Things?" _I asked. What did he mean..?

"Would you like some more wine?" He offered, changing the subject. I sat behind him and wrapped my arms around him from behind.

"What _things?" _

No reply.

"Are you _sure_ that you want to stop?" I teased, placing another small kiss on his neck.

"No I'm not." He said with a laugh. "That is why I must. I don't trust myself." He stood up and turned to face me.

"What things do you need to sort out?" I repeated, feeling redundant but curious nonetheless.

Without speaking he took my left hand in his, taking care to place a small kiss on the ring finger. Then he looked at me, a smile on his face.

_My ring finger?_

_...Marriage...?_

With that he dropped my hand and left the room.

I sat on the bed, utterly bewildered by what had just transpired. Had he just proposed to me? Or perhaps hinted that he was _going_ to propose? Ever since I was a little girl I had dreamed about my wedding; getting married to the perfect man. Meg and I had discussed it at length on many occasions. I had always dreamed that one day, when I was truly in love with someone we would marry and start a family. I had known of Raoul's intentions over the past few weeks and had avoided discussing it at all costs because I knew what I felt for Erik. But now that it was real, now that it was in front of me... now that _he _was in front of me I found that I was frightened. Not necessarily of Erik but of the whole process. I had never thought about what my _husband _would look like... or what his occupation might be, I only hoped that we would have shared interests, that he would be passionate and that he would love me above all else. And Erik was all of those things; he met those requirements. So what was the problem?

I loved him and I chose to be in his company above all others'... but was I really ready for marriage? Part of me was still frightened of what he had done and while I knew that Erik would never hurt me... that side of him wasn't really his to control. The Phantom came and went of his volition and I knew that if Erik ever truly lost his grip on him... there was no telling what he might do.

After ten minutes or so he returned with the wine. His glass was already half empty.

"Apologies for the delay, my dear. I had to... regain my composure..."

I noticed that he had also replaced his mask and wig. Slightly disappointed I took the glass he handed me and took a sip.

"You put it back on..." I said sadly. He nodded.

"I am... simply not used to being without it." He said. "Perhaps, in time?" He added reassuringly. I smiled in response. I knew that one night could not make up for a lifetime of hatred and revulsion. The fact that he was willing to take it off at all, if only to appease me told me all I needed to know.

"Do you need me to return you?" He asked, sitting down beside me.

"No." I smiled. "I can stay for as long as you are willing to have me."

"Then I am afraid you may never leave." He teased. He placed his wine on a table beside his bed and lay back on the sheets. I turned around to face him and ran my hand over his chest affectionately.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." He smiled, placing his hand over mine.

"When we were... being intimate... you didn't try to undress me..."

"The same reason." He said before I could finish. "I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted to more than anything but I knew that it wasn't right." He looked at my hand where it lay and smiled to himself. "Part of me simply couldn't think while you were kissing me..."

"Oh..." I said, blushing slightly.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"What is it?"

"Will you play something for me? I... haven't heard you play music in a long time..." Erik sat up immediately before placing a tender kiss upon my lips.

"I would love to."

* * *

Setting his wine glass down atop his organ he began to play. I sat down beside him and simply stared in awe as his masterful fingers raced up and down the ivory. I had never learned to play an instrument; my father had taught me a small amount on the violin but as life as a chorus member grew busier the time I could find to practise lessened.

He played for hours, breaking only to take sips from his wine glass and I simply sat, entranced. He did not look at me once during his playing and he often closed his eyes, lost in the melody... the narrative of whatever it was that he was playing. I felt as though I were caught up in his music, just like the night he had first brought me to his home. I was rising up with it... being enveloped by its warmth. As the music grew to a swell I almost felt as If I were floating... the expression on his face intensified and then... as abruptly as he had begun, he stopped.

"That is all I have so far..."

"What... _you _wrote that?" I asked, falling back down to earth. Those beautiful melodies had been _his?_

"Of course..." He said; a smug expression on his face. Living and working where I did, I had often seen the signs of inebriation around me. I was seeing them now and I found it quite entertaining. "That was the Opera the company is to perform next... the Opera that you are to sing... will you sing for me, Christine?" He asked hopefully.

"No no, I've had too much alcohol tonight." A sober Erik would have known that. I _had _had too much to drink, but not nearly as much as him. "Remember what you told me? It might damage my voice..."

"Ah, yes! How silly of me." He laughed to himself and turned back to his instrument.

I walked over to he had left his pocket watch and opened it; it was one o'clock in the morning. Where had the time gone?

* * *

He played for another hour or so and became increasingly inebriated as the night wore on. Perhaps it was in celebration? Perhaps he was simply in need of relaxation after what we had done... what we had to stop? Perhaps he simply felt at ease in my company?

"Enough now I think..." He said. He stopped abruptly and stood up, stumbling slightly as he did. I couldn't help but think it comical.

"How much did you drink, exactly?"

"Ah... exactly... quite a bit." He slurred with a smile. With my assistance he staggered up the stone steps and into the bed chamber we'd previously spent time in... "I am sorry, Christine... T-this is your b-bed but... I might just... lie here for a moment."

"Yes. That's alright." I stifled a laugh. He staggered to the bed, threw back the blankets and lay on his back. There he lay, motionless save for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"Erik...?" I asked, sitting down beside him. He haphazardly removed his mask and wig and rolled onto his front, the right side of his face buried in the pillow beneath him.

"Yes..." he mumbled with his eyes closed.

"Are you asleep..?"

"No..."

I lay down beside him and gently smoothed back his hair, taking this opportunity to study his features. His face looked so relaxed and with the right side of it concealed by the pillow he looked nothing more than a normal man... a _handsome _man; sideburns, darker than that of his real hair color bordered a strong jaw; a jaw which looked freshly shaven only this morning but was now shadowed by a day's growth. I ran my fingers over his face gently, smiling as my fingers came in contact with the rough texture. Erik smiled to my touch.

"That feels nice..." He mumbled.

I stretched my hand out and ran it over his back absentmindedly. Then I recalled what I had seen...

"What happened to your back?" I asked, courageously slipping my hand beneath his shirt and tracing the scars on his skin.

"...Nothing."

"Obviously not _nothing_." I replied. At least he wasn't reacting as he had before. I'd chosen the perfect time. Perhaps I would ask him about the Ball as well?

"Something... happened." He said. "L-long... long time ago..." He turned to face me.

"Will you tell me about it?"

"Mmm y-you are asking me now because I am in-in-ebr-riated..." He slurred with a laugh.

"Perhaps."

"...A-And you think that I... will tell you."

"Perhaps."

"W-Well... y-you are wrong..." He smiled drowsily. I could not help but laugh audibly at his state. I could never have imagined sharing such an experience with such a man.

"Will you really not tell me?" I teased.

"N-no." He protested before proceeding to throw his head into the pillow and mumble further.

"Erik?" I smiled.

"Mmm..."

"Are you asleep?"

"Yes..." A muffled response.

"Erik?"

"Yes..."

"Will you escort me to the Bal Masque?"

"Mmm..."

"Erik? Will you?" I pressed.

"Mmm... Yes, alright."

"Really?!"

"Hmmm yes... that will be quite nice."

_Yes! He had said Yes!_

I knew that he wouldn't remember making such a promise but that hardly mattered, he had agreed nonetheless. He was taking me to the Ball.

I knew that he wouldn't be able to return me to the surface tonight. Truthfully, I didn't mind at all.

People would be looking for me. I knew that. I slipped under the blankets, wrapped an arm around his motionless form and closed my eyes. I would deal with the consequences tomorrow.

* * *

Erik

I awoke to a sore back and a pounding headache... but in contrast to that displeasure I awoke to my Christine beside me, her thin arms wrapped tightly around me; that more than made up for the discomfort. I found that in spite of the cramp that had developed in my arm and the stiffness in my back, I did not wish to get up. At some point in the night, Christine and I had found one another and had not parted... That seemed too special to sacrifice for something as trivial as comfort. So much had happened last night... and yet I found that I could remember very little. I remember showing her my face and I remember the look on her face; it is something that I shall never forget. That look is what I had been waiting to see my entire life; acceptance, love. When I saw her eyes I found that I could not contain my emotion... and then she spoke those words;

_Kiss me, Erik._

I felt my cheeks redden as I recalled what Christine and I had shared. Part of me expected to awaken as I often did when i dreamed of such beauty; in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat... alone. What we shared was heaven... and I knew that there was _more_. I had never been touched like that in all my years and she did it as if it were nothing, as if _she _were actually enjoying it as much as I was. And i stopped it... it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, but I instructed her to stop. I _had _to. I could not let her make such a choice until she knew with unwavering doubt that it was the _correct _choice. And I wanted to know that _she _was the one making the choice, that it wasn't my influence in any way. I told her that I had to take care of some things before we went any further; Marriage. If she was going to do it, it had to be done the right way. Of course, there would be many things to do; many loose ends to tie up before something like that could even be feasible... but if she agreed, did anything else mattered? There would be time to think on that later...

I remember drinking quite a bit of wine. Partly in celebration of my feelings and partly just to calm myself after what we had done... or, almost done. The rest was a blur. I remember her asking me about my scars... and something else?

I couldn't recall.

I brought my hand to my face...

_No mask._

I took a deep breath. Yes, she had already seen my face but in the state I was in she could have been looking upon my face for hours without my knowledge. That made me uncomfortable... even now...

I carefully removed her arm and reached over to the side of the bed. Thankfully my mask and wig were there, apparently carelessly discarded the night before. How bad had it been? I replaced the items before turning back to Christine. She was so beautiful. In all my years of knowing her I had never had the pleasure of being able to look on her while she was sleeping. It always felt wrong. I hated being stared at and so I could not subject _her_ to such a thing. But today was different. I simply couldn't help myself because I knew that she was _mine. _She would open her eyes and smile upon seeing me. That was more than I could have hoped for months ago. She was here. _Here _with me of her own free will. Still, I could not believe it.

_Here. _

_In the morning..._

Shame washed over me as I realized that I had not returned her to the surface the night before. Selfishly, I had given myself to the numbing sensation of alcohol instead of minding my responsibilities to her. Perhaps that was _why _she had stayed? Regardless... She was _so _beautiful...

Gently I picked up a strand of hair that had fallen in her face and placed it behind her ear. And then... she opened her eyes.

"Erik..." She smiled sleepily. My heart swelled with happiness.

"Good morning." I said. "Christine... I don't quite remember what happened last night, but I must apologize for not returning you to the surface... and for my..." I was silenced by a finger against my lips.

"I wanted to stay." She said, pulling my head down to meet hers in a tender kiss. "I can see that you are back to normal." She smiled.

"I am... sorry for last night. I regret that I... cannot recall a lot of what happened."

"Last night was wonderful." She said, lying against me once more.

"That doesn't often happen. I don't often lose control like that. It was my responsibility to return you and I failed to do that... I fear that I may have made things worse for us."

"Seeing you like that was a nice change and... whatever has happened as a result of this we can deal with when the time comes." She looked up at me. "Do you really not remember much from last night?"

"No. Is there something that I should remember? What did I say?"

"Oh, not much. I think that you will remember in time." She said. I gave her a quizzical look but she chose to ignore it.

"I remember that... you asked me about my scars..." I said apprehensively.

"You didn't say anything. Don't worry."

I nodded slowly. What could she mean?

"Come." I said, sitting up. "As much as I want you to stay here, I need to return you to the surface."

"Already?" She sat up beside me. "Why can't we just spent time in each other's company without having to worry about... anyone else?"

"That time will come, Christine. If that is what you still wish... but it is not now."

We shared another perfect kiss before getting dressed and heading to the dressing room.

* * *

"Will it be safe to enter this way?"

"Yes, of course. La Carlotta does not sleep here. She will have left straight after the performance."

"Yes but... last time... with Raoul."

"If that is the case, you need not fear. I will not do something so foolish again, I promise you." She looked at me, a stern expression on her face. "Still, I do not regret it." I added.

As we reached the threshold to her world once more, I pulled her book from within my cloak.

"You... left this. It _is _yours. A gift is a gift..."

Her eyes widened at the sight of it and she pulled me into an embrace.

"That is not all!" I laughed as I wrapped my arms around her in return. From within my cloak I presented her with a single, red rose. Tradition was tradition.

"Erik." She smiled as she took the rose. "Where do you hide these things?"

"Ah. A secret, I'm afraid." I teased.

"One of many." She mused. "Well, thank you. You never forget."

"You are very welcome." I said. This time, I pulled _her _into an embrace and she accepted it eagerly. How had something so glorious befallen me? I could not fathom it. But I dared not question it. "I love you..." I breathed into her hair. I had not meant to say it; not aloud. Of course, I wanted to tell her all the time; every time I set eyes on her but although she had already said it to me, I did not know if she was ready to hear it as much as I felt it. The words felt so strange coming from my mouth... they felt awkward; out of place, as if someone like me should not be saying such things. As if those words were reserved for others only. Perhaps this would change? Perhaps not. But she returned them as she always did.

"I love you too."

The four, sweet words put my mind at ease, at least temporarily.

"Until tonight?" She asked confidently. It had become somewhat of a ritual, just like it had been before... It seemed that neither of us could go very long without seeing one another and I saw no harm in it. As long as we were cautious and as long as our rendezvous did not affect her performances it could do no harm, could it? After all, I _was _her tutor... wasn't I? We agreed to meet at the same time and place.

"Until tonight." I smiled, placing a kiss on her forehead before stepping into the darkness.

I turned around and headed back down to my home to complete my Opera in preparation for the Bal Masque. If things went well I would have it finished in time to see Christine... I just hoped that my actions had not jeopardized her; jeopardized _us_ once more...

* * *

MASQUERAAAAAADE

Please review! :D


	18. Chapter 18

New chapter! Yay! This sort of sets things up for the next few chapters. I always have this doubt but i hope that i'm keeping everyone in character for you. Opinions and thoughts, pls! :)

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

**Christine**

Waking next to any man, let alone Erik had felt like something from a dream. I wanted to stay with him... Simply forget about the world above us and stay. I had waited an eternity for him to explain what lay beneath the mask... for him to _show _me. And when he finally allowed me to remove it I was not nearly as surprised as I thought I would be. It was simply a face... slightly unique in nature but a face all the same. It was _his _face. The man I had come to love. Within seconds it felt as though I had never looked upon anything else. I don't know what I had prepared myself for. Certainly, it wasn't perfect but what _was?_ What followed certainly served to distract me from any lingering questions I may have had...

I felt a rush of heat course through me as I recalled what we had shared. Something I had not shared with any man... something he may not have shared with any woman? I drew my hand to my lips as I remembered where they had been... I had kissed him and touched him as if it had been second nature... It was anything _but _that. How had I been so bold? How could I do it again? A bashful smile spread across my lips before I realized that no one could see me. No one knew the scenes that were now replaying in my mind.

No one knew except him...

In spite of my embarrassment I could not wait to see him again, partly to discern whether what I was feeling was _real _and not my imagination, and partly to confirm that it was mutual. I couldn't wait to learn more about him; everything there was to know... everything he was willing to tell me. I felt closer to him now than I ever had and leaving him was becoming increasingly difficult.

Thankfully as I exited the dressing room this time, there was no one waiting to meet me; waiting to question me. I would not have been prepared for them. I left Erik in a daze; my head was in the clouds once more.

...In the clouds with the Angels...

_The Angel..._

Perhaps no one had noticed my absence? Perhaps I could simply slip back into my sleeping quarters without the knowledge of Madame Giry or any of the chorus girls. It was early enough and the company seldom rose before ten o'clock on a Saturday.

"Christine, how are you feeling?" He asked, taking my hand affectionately.

"_Feeling?"_ I replied, confused by what he had said. What did he mean? Thankfully a voice behind me answered my question.

"Christine... What are you doing out of bed?"

It was Madame Giry. I spun around, my gaze; subtly questioning her.

"I... don't know?" I said slowly. She frowned at me. Of course... she was covering for me. "I... wanted to go for a walk..?" I added.

"My dear, you are running a high fever. You mustn't wander about the place like this."

"Yes..."I complied. "Fever... I apologize. I did not mean to worry you."

"So... you _have _been in bed since yesterday's performance?" Raoul questioned me. "Madame Giry told me that you wouldn't be leaving your bed... I wished to see you... to apologize but... I could not."

"Yes... Yes I have been in bed. But please, there is no need to apologize..." Raoul drew me into an embrace. I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and hoped that Erik wasn't watching.

"I wanted to take you up on your offer... about spending time together again?" He pulled away... then paused. "You... smell different..."

How could I have been so foolish? Of course I smelled different. I had spent the night in Erik's arms... I probably smelt like him. The fact that he wore cologne was something I had never considered or thought much on, I had just always accepted his scent as _his._ It could always be found on the gifts he presented me with, his scores of music... anything he touched, including me. I could never quite place it but it lay somewhere between wood chips, musk and freshly un-wrapped paper stock. A smile hinted at my lips but I forced it away.

"Different..?" I feigned ignorance, urging myself back to the present.

"Yes..." He leaned closer to me and inhaled. I held my breath as if it too would give something away... "Like... cologne..."

"Cologne?!" I replied. "How could that be?"

"My fault, Monsieur." Madame Giry added. "It was... something I put by her bed to help her sleep. A... scented remedy I employed for my husband and for Meg when she was a child."

"Ah." Raoul nodded, seemingly convinced.

"Come, Christine. You must get back to bed." She turned to Raoul. "I am sorry, Monsieur. Perhaps, later in the day..? Tomorrow?" Placing a hand on my shoulder she guided me away from him before he could respond.

"Wait." He said; a hint of command in his voice. I turned around slowly. "Where did you get those?" He pointed to the items in my hands; Erik's book and the rose he had given me. I looked down at the items he was referring to. I had neglected to mind Erik's gifts. How would I explain _those?_

"I... I..." I stuttered. I looked to Madame Giry but she simply returned my desperate glare and did not speak.

"Do you think I am a fool, Christine?" Raoul smiled cynically. "The scent... your absence... and now _those?_" He walked up to me and plucked the book from my grasp. "'_Scandinavian Folk Lore'? We _used to read this together, have you forgotten? But _I _did not give this to you... so who did, Christine? Who?"

"It was my father's!"

"Do not lie to me! It is _his!" _He threw it to the ground. I knew exactly to whom he was referring.

"No!" I yelled, starting toward it but deciding against it. If Raoul really knew how much that book meant to me, he would realize my secret within seconds. He had his suspicions... but part of me still believed that I could convince him otherwise. The foolish part, perhaps.

"Monsieur! Mind yourself!" Madame Giry instructed harshly.

"And this rose..." he continued. I pulled it away from his grasp. He would _not _have that. He scowled at me. "You were not ill, were you? You were with _him!_" He took a deep breath and began to pace the length of the corridor. "Why, Christine? _WHY?! _I _loved _you... I'm sorry that I wasn't here for you when you needed me but... seeing you again made me realize that I loved you all along."

"I'm sorry, Raoul. But it isn't going to _be _like that! I... you know that I am courting someone else."

"Yes, _him! _Why _him?_ It is hurtful enough but... _he is a murderer, Christine! _Surely you cannot believe it to be a good idea!"

"I appreciate your concern but... I want to be with him..."

"So, you _were _with him."

"Raoul, no! I wasn't... I..."

"Do me the courtesy of telling me the truth, Christine. Can't you see how much I care about you? Can't you see that this is for _us?_" He grabbed my shoulders but I shook him off.

"There is no '_us'!" _I retorted. I was becoming desperate in my need for his understanding, his recognition. This would be so much easier if Raoul simply understood and accepted what was happening. But he would never accept it. I was beginning to see that. He continued, determined.

"Can't you see that this is for your own good?"

"_What_ is?"

He stepped backward, a smug grin snaking its way across his once comforting features.

"After I saw you two last, I had that mirror searched. I am in constant communication with the Police and I _will _have him found."

"What..? Raoul, why..?"

"One of these days, _you_ or _he_ will slip up... and on that day I will seize the opportunity and have him caught." His voice was gaining volume as he spoke.

"Monsieur! Do not say such things!" Madame Giry held my hand for support and stepped toward Raoul.

"Why?" He asked, turning to her. "Are you his accomplice? Does he have this whole theater under his spell? Under his control? Well this is not _his _theater. It is mine. _I _am the patron..." He turned back to Christine. "And _you _were mine before you were his!"

"I don't belong to anybody!" I cried.

"Well, once he is out of the way, you _will _be mine..."

"Why can't you just leave him be?!" I yelled, shoving him backward. He ignored my protestations and stepped closer to me once more.

"He _will _be found. And when he is... it will be straight to the gallows."

_"__Raoul!"_

"Once he is gone, this... _spell _he seems to have over you will simply fall away and things will be as they should be."

"Why do you want to do this?" I asked. He was more determined to find Erik now than he had been yesterday and it was my fault entirely. What would I do if he was caught... executed? Tears began to gather in my eyes at the mere thought of it. "Can't you see that you are only hurting me?!"

Raoul's face softened.

"Christine... I would never wish to hurt you. I keep telling you, this is _for _you. For your safety." He sighed and smoothed back his hair. "I... came to apologize, which I have done. I also came for another reason. Will you escort me to the Bal Masque?"

No...

Surely not...

"I..." I looked around in desperation. Surely someone, some_thing _would come to my rescue before I had to answer him.

"I don't suppose your friend is attending, is he? Perhaps I should tell the authorities that..."

"No." I cut him off. I would have to accept. It was the only way to keep Erik from harm. I knew very well that he had plans to attend... regardless of whether he recalled making them with me. "No, he will not be attending." Every fiber of my being wanted to refuse... But I knew that Erik would understand. "I will escort you, Raoul."

"Very well, Christine..." He said, shifting his gaze uneasily between Madame Giry and myself. "I will meet you at the top of the grand escalier at eight o'clock on the night."

I nodded curtly. Raoul did the same before turning to walk away. After a few steps he stopped and turned back.

"I do not mean to hurt you, Christine... It is the last thing I would ever wish to do." He said. Then he simply walked away. Never had I felt so isolated, yet at the same time so suffocated... What was I to do? I was trapped.

It was only after we were no longer able to hear his footfalls did Madame Giry and I speak. She took me by the shoulders and shook me as she spoke.

"Foolish girl! You told me that you would be cautious!"

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in a predicament... and I didn't mean to put Erik in danger. I didn't think anyone would notice my absence..."

"You cannot see Erik for at least a week... Raoul will have the authorities searching high and low for the man responsible for Buquet's murder."

"A week?! No I... I made plans to see him tonight!"

"_Tonight!?"_ She drew her hand to her forehead in frustration. "No. It cannot be. It simply cannot. It is too dangerous!" She was right... And I _knew _that she was right.

"Well... I must at least see him to explain!"

"No! It is too dangerous, child! He will understand... it is too much of a risk!"

"No, he won't understand. He will be waiting for me. And... I _want _to see him!"

"Christine!" She shook me once more. I struggled free and frowned at her. "You need to understand! This is so much bigger than _you! _He cannot afford to be found, do you understand!? After what he has done... there will be no trial because of who he is! You must understand that!"

"I..." I leaned against the wall of the corridor and exhaled in frustration. I _did _understand. If something happened to Erik it would affect me more than anyone... "It isn't fair." I pouted.

"I know." She said; her voice calmer. "But you need to keep your distance. Your every movement will be scrutinized because... I suppose Raoul believes that you will lead him to Erik." I looked at her.

"Yes... I suppose that I _would. _If I wasn't thinking... I _would."_

She nodded, picking up the discarded book and handing it to me. I held it to my chest.

"Come. Let us prepare for the day."

_Prepare for whatever was to come..._

That night the minutes ticked along slower than they ever had. Time flew when I was with him... We had agreed to meet at eight o'clock; the minutes leading up to that time were torture... the minutes after were even worse. All I could do was picture him standing there, waiting. Risking himself for me... Doubting me with every second that I did not show. And what if he came to find me and saw that I was not busy at all, I was not otherwise occupied or engaged... I was simply sitting there, doing nothing. Choosing _not _to see him. I felt a fresh wave of heartache rush through me; sitting somewhere between nausea and physical pain it began in the pit of my stomach and grew upward. I pretended that I was ill so that no one would question me. I knew that Raoul would not tell anyone the truth that he knew and if he did I would simply deny it. I was in no mood for company, not in such a state.

I lay back on my pillow and closed my eyes in preparation for sleep. I did not bother to douse the lamp for I knew that Meg would tend to it when she arrived. Perhaps part of me was leaving it on intentionally. Perhaps I was waiting for him... Just as I turned to my side and pulled the blankets over me I heard a knock on the door. I did not have a chance to answer before it swung open. I turned around irritably.

_Raoul._

"Christine... I am sorry. Were you asleep?"

"I... almost." I lied. I rubbed my eyes and feigned a yawn. Raoul was the last person I wanted to see. The pain I was feeling was due to no one but him. "What is it?" I asked.

"I... may I come in?"

"If you wish." I said curtly. Raoul slowly entered and sat on the bed. Involuntarily I moved away from him.

"I simply wanted to apologize... again." He laughed awkwardly. "I mean, for how I acted just this morning. I cannot stand the thought of upsetting you."

I sat up and faced him.

"Then why _are _you upsetting me? Why are you preventing me from happiness."

"Christine... _he _is not happiness."

"Please leave." I said.

"Wait... I... I'm sorry. Listen, I want what is best for you. I..." He paused. We both looked up as we heard a light thud from above. Without a second thought, he continued. "...I... really _will_ do whatever I can to make you happy."

"Will you give up on your search and allow me to see him?"

"Christine... I cannot do that."

"Well then you do not care for my happiness. Please leave. I have agreed to escort you to the Ball and I will. But I want you to leave."

"Christine..." He reached out to touch my face. I snapped my head away.

"Alright..." He said, voice; contrite. "Sleep well, Little Lotte."

_Little Lotte..._

I hadn't heard that in such a long time... What had happened to that Raoul? My childhood friend who would have done anything for me, who braved the Northern seas in order to save something as trivial as a scarf from its icy depths. He was still there... I knew that because at times I saw him. Part of me believed that he really was trying to do what he felt was best for me... but depriving me of happiness? That was no friend at all. No, I could not let my memories affect me. That was a different time. Raoul was selfish. He wanted to be rid of Erik for his own gain; so that he could _have _me as If I were some sort of possession...

Raoul left and closed the door behind him leaving me in silence once again... Leaving me with my thoughts, worries and regrets; unchanged.

_Erik, I wish you were here._

"Goodnight." I bid quietly into the darkness. Perhaps he would hear me.

* * *

**Erik**

With all of the alacrity and enthusiasm I usually possessed upon visiting my Christine, I entered the Chapel and waited in the shadows. The previous night spent with her had left me more entranced than I had ever been and every minute spent away from her was spent thinking about her. Never in all my years had I experienced such pleasure than at the hands of her... More than anything else I wanted to see her again, to touch her... to have her hands upon my body once more...

I took a deep breath. I had to derail that thought pattern. I could not subject Christine to anything until it was right, until propriety allowed it. And I had to begin making plans to allow _that _to happen. If I asked for her hand, I needed to have a plan set in place. I had always dreamed of marrying Christine, and she and I spending our days in my home, but that was not practical and it was not what she deserved. She deserved a _house. _She deserved a castle and while I was equipped with the knowledge to design one for her, that was not practical either. No, realistically I would need to find a house outside of Paris... possibly even beyond the borders of France, herself. I would need to think of a way for us to leave the Opera that did not involve my arrest or putting her in harm's way. It would be difficult, but with her love and acceptance it was possible. Anything was. I would begin planning when I had finished the Opera. I had hoped to have had it finished today but once more I found myself quite distracted...

I looked down at the object in my hand; another red rose for her. She loved them and what was my purpose if not to fill her life with happiness? I checked my pocket watch, the numbers were difficult to make out in the dull lighting but from what I could see, it was past eight... We had agreed to meet at eight.

As the minutes ticked by I grew increasingly concerned for her. Why had she neglected to come? Had something happened? Had she changed her mind? No... she couldn't have. Not after her heart had been so full the night before... Had it been? Perhaps she had changed her mind _due _to what we had experienced. Did I blame her?

After thirty minutes or so, my restless waiting became desperate. I only hoped that she hadn't fallen ill or come to harm in any way. What if she had disobeyed me and attempted to make her way to my home? No, she wouldn't have done that. She promised me... I had to know! I had to!

I made my way to the floor of her sleeping quarters, and from above, I watched. I did not know quite what to expect.

What I saw was something I had not anticipated...

She was with Raoul...

My breath caught in my chest and my stomach lurched as I took in the reality of what I was seeing. I couldn't bear to watch more than a second and I did not care to hear an explanation. What did it matter? What could her reasoning possibly be? She had promised to be in my company and once more she was in his...

As I rushed away I tried to calm myself, tried to reassure myself that she would have an explanation but I was losing grip on my sensible side, losing my grip on reason and the other part of me was taking control...

I would stay away. I would stay well away and perhaps if she _did _happen to miss my company or at least take note of my absence, she would feel a small amount of the pain and anguish _I_ was feeling. Of course, I would see her at the Bal Masque. That could not be avoided. Perhaps I would ignore her... or perhaps I would give her the chance to explain. But for now I had to leave; had to be as far away from them as I possibly could. I could not bear witness to such betrayal.

* * *

**Christine**

The hours came and went. The agony did not cease. I prayed that somehow he would understand; that he would _know _but I knew that he could not. And more than likely instead of approaching me and asking me about it, he would once again withdraw himself from my world... Thinking himself unworthy or unsuited to someone like me... degrading himself as he was so accustomed to doing.

But I could do nothing to prevent it. I could take no action to ease my pain or _his._

I could not even find him to explain myself. The dressing room was no longer mine to commandeer and Erik had warned me not to seek him out. Frankly I was hardly apt to do that after what had happened to me previously. And I could not do so without endangering him.

_Please, Erik. _

_Please know._

_Please know that I love you._

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! There are so many stories out there, where the plot is only such due to a complete change of Raoul's character. Like, all of this drama ensues because Raoul is suddenly a crazy, violent jerk who develops a vendetta against almost everyone else and the story revolves around that. I want to stay away from that, so i'm trying to keep him more in character and give him realistic motives behind his choices...**

**What do you guys think?**


	19. Chapter 19

Sorry for the delay. Things have been crazy. But no excuses. On with the story!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

Please review!

* * *

**Christine**

The next day I heard nothing from him. I spent time in the Chapel, hoping that he would approach me so that I could apologize but he did not. I became desperate to talk to him, to explain myself. I knew how his mind worked; how insecure he was... I knew that he would take it terribly and that he would think up millions of scenarios, millions of reasons as to why I didn't show- all bad. And all wrong.

I did not see or hear from him for several days and before I knew it, I was preparing for the Bal Masque. Many of the girls in the Corps de ballet had men to escort them and had organised their clothing accordingly; an act of courtship. While I _had_ agreed to allow Raoul the task we did not partake in the tradition. I did not _want _to attend the Bal in his company. Perhaps at one time the prospect of such a thing would have filled me with joy. Perhaps like the other girls I would have been overwhelmed with euphoria at the thought of organizing my hair... my shoes... and seeing Raoul at the bottom of the grand escalier waiting for me... but I was not. I wanted to attend with Erik and I feared that after what I had done, he would not so much as speak with me. Would I blame him? He would no doubt think that after such intimacy, I had shunned him. And I knew that seeing Raoul and I at the Bal together would only work to worsen the situation. Upon getting dressed and slipping on my shoes I could not help but think that in some way, it _was _all for him... could not help but lose myself in the dream that I _was _attending with Erik, that we would see one another from across the room, he at the bottom of the staircase and I at the top. We would walk to one another and when we met he would place a kiss on my gloved hand and ask me to dance...

But I knew that it would never happen. It _couldn't _happen...

He would attend. I _knew _that he would... all I had to do was find him...

Find him and explain.

* * *

"Are you excited, Christine? I just _love _parties!" Meg took my arm in hers as we made our way down to the grand escalier. She was practically bubbling over with excitement and while I did not want to hinder her mood I could not help but feel nonplussed at the idea of spending a night with Raoul, not after what he had said... what he had planned to do.

I smiled wanly.

"What's the matter?" She asked. Perhaps I hadn't been subtle enough in my lack of enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry, Meg. I don't mean to spoil your night... I _was _looking forward to this event just as much as you were but it's just that... things are different..."

"Are you still..." She lowered her voice. "Are you still... _seeing _the Opera Ghost?"

"Meg!" I said with a smile. Apparently I could not help myself upon his mention. "His name is Erik... and... I did _want _to attend with him..."

"But you are attending with Raoul, are you not?"

"Yes. I am... only because I must."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... things have changed with Raoul."

"Because of Erik?"

"Yes... You see... Raoul _saw _him."

Meg gasped.

"What!?"

"Yes! I know! And so... he and I have had to be very cautious... we are being watched very closely. And... the last time he and I had planned to meet, I could not make it. I could not see him. I know he was gravely upset by it because I have not spoken to him since... And so... we _had _planned to attend together but now... I don't even know whether he will want to speak with me."

"I can see why Raoul is upset... you and he had been spending a lot of time together as I recall, and it is obvious that he has intentions with you... obvious to me at least..."

"But I have _told _him that I do not wish to... court him. He knows that I want to be with Erik! He knows and yet he will not allow it! It angers me!"

"Christine... I know how passionately you feel about this Erik... but remember what Raoul used to mean to you. He has done and would do anything for you."

"So would Erik!"

"Yes, I know. I'm simply saying that I understand Raoul's position. You spent a lot of time with him and perhaps... mislead him?"

"I did no such thing!" I could not believe what I was hearing. Had this been Meg's opinion the entire time? "I have made it perfectly clear to him that I want to be with Erik!"

"Well, if you say so. He just wants what is best for you, though. He disapproves because... he has feelings for you... but _also _I expect because of the man you chose. And I daresay, it has been nice to have you around again. When you spend time with Erik, I hardly see you..."

"What's best for me is my happiness. He wants the Police to catch Erik, Meg! It is more than his indifference or disapproval... Erik will face the gallows!"

"I don't know what to say, Christine... I know how strongly you feel for him but... he _did _murder Buquet. Isn't that what you said?"

"So... he deserves to die?" I blinked in confusion.

"Christine... let's not do this." She reasoned. "Let us not spoil this evening."

"No, tell me." I challenged, walking closer to her. "Is that what you truly feel?"

"I... I don't know." She said, shrugging her shoulders. Her brows knitted together in confusion. "It's just that... since Buquet... everyone has been talking. They say that _he _did it. And I've been thinking about it a lot... But... _I don't know. _I don't know him as you do."

"No, you do not." I snapped. I pushed past her and strode down the corridor as fast as my dress would allow. Meg was my friend, my _dearest _friend... Since we were children we had shared our deepest and darkest secrets but I could see that that time was over. That was no more. Perhaps once I'd had a chance to cool down and collect my thoughts I would think differently... But how could I ever see my way clear to befriend someone who held such little regard for the man I loved, regardless of who he was?

When I reached the top of the stairs I was greeted by several of the other chorus girls who began complimenting my hair, my dress... comparing our shoes... things that would normally have taken my interest. But not tonight. There was _so_ much on my mind that talk of such things seemed terribly frivolous and senseless... However the mundane chatter _did _serve to distract me from my previous conversation with Meg. The area was already full of people, many of which were already inebriated or equally giddy with excitement. I gazed at the crowd, hoping for a glimpse... a sighting... it took me several minutes of searching before I realized that I had no idea what Erik would be wearing. How was I to seek him out in a room full of people wearing masks?

I spotted Raoul at the bottom of the escalier, seemingly enraptured by Monsieur Andre; wine in hand and no doubt sprucing about his business expertise or regaling Raoul with a story that he would have to pretend to find funny. He caught my eye and while I did not necessarily want to see him, I did pity his situation. I could stand no more than five minutes of that man's conversation.

"Good evening." I said politely.

"You look beautiful." He said as he reached me.

"Thank you, Raoul."

"No, thank _you. _I could not have been part of that conversation for another moment."

"Yes... Andre can be trying."

"Yes." He said. Then he simply stared at me for a few moments. I felt terribly uncomfortable under his gaze and was about to excuse myself in search of a beverage _or anything that did not involve such close scrutiny _when he spoke again. "I have said this before... but I am sorry for any grief I have caused you. You have no idea how much I want for us to be like we were."

I sighed. Was that all? I had hoped he would not mention it. I had hoped that we would be able to make it through the evening, pretending that things _were _as they had been. That he did _not_ wish for the man I loved to meet his demise... That he did _not _wish to condemn me to a word of blackness.

"That cannot happen."

"No... I know. I know that now. I mean as we _were _before all of this. Before the Opera, before _him._" He gestured to the ceiling. I thought it strange due to the fact that Erik lived below. Perhaps Raoul did not know that. Perhaps I wanted to keep it that way. "I know that you do not see me... like you see him... And I hate it."

"Raoul... let us not..." I began to protest...

"No. It's alright. I don't want to argue. I just... all I meant to say was... tonight let us pretend that things are as they used to be. When we were children. Can we do that? Can we forget our differences for tonight?"

"Raoul..." I repeated.

"Please, Christine. You have agreed to accompany me tonight. Will you at least try to enjoy yourself? You... cared about me once..."

I did. Once. In a way I still did.

"Alright." I sighed, offering my hand. "Tonight."

* * *

The room was a whirlwind of color and movement. Spinning, dancing, laughing. I was enjoying myself as much as those around me. Before I knew it, it was half past ten. I _had _been enjoying myself as Raoul had instructed. I had not thought of my conversation with Meg, I had successfully ignored the sneers of Carlotta and Piangi as I waltzed past them. I had failed to succumb to the heartache that threatened to envelop me at the lack of Erik's presence. I would think on that later... when I was alone. I threw one last hopeful glance at the top of the stairs...

...a glimpse of red...

...the music stopped...

...those around us stopped dancing...

I looked back.

Erik. It was Erik. My stomach lurched with anticipation at the sight of him and my dancing partner was forgotten. There he stood, proudly at the top of the staircase. He gazed around, surveying the room, taking it all in... But he would not look at me. I had neglected to wear a mask and yet he had not looked at me. His mask was that of a skull. His outfit was a brilliant red; a double breasted military style jacket complete with a sash of red silk trailing behind him as he walked down the stairs; his steps were assured and deliberate. He looked strikingly handsome. He held an item in his hand; sheets of paper in a leather casing...

His Opera...

"Why so silent?" He spoke, his voice echoed throughout the marble in the room and up into the ceiling. "Please, do not stop the festivities on my behalf. I have simply come to enjoy them, myself. After all, it _is _my Opera house. Perhaps my invitation was lost in the mail?" His words were followed by a dry, cynical chuckle before he continued. "I jest, of course." Without warning he raised the item in his hand before throwing it harshly to the floor. "I have written you an Opera." He pointed to the sheets now littering the marble stairs before him. "This is to be performed in a month. No exceptions." Then, he pointed at me. "Christine Daae is to play the lead and you fill find the rest of my casting and production instructions inside."

Everyone present remained silent, even Raoul.

Then, Erik actually looked at me. His eyes softened. He looked at Raoul... then back at me...I longed to call out to him, to approach him... _anything. _He glanced up at the roof and then at me once more... then his eyes narrowed and he looked away.

The roof?

Was that intentional?

"That is all." He said, addressing Andre and Firmin who were huddled next to a statue at the very bottom of the staircase. "Your festivities may continue." Erik strode back up to the top of the escalier and with a puff of smoke, he was gone. I could not believe my eyes. He had disappeared... He had left without as much as a word to me. I could not let this be. But what did his gesture mean? Would he really be on the roof if he had quite plainly disappeared below? Perhaps _that _had been simply to confuse everyone else... I did not know... What I did know was that if he _had _meant for me to meet him on the roof, I _had _to be there. I could not let him down... not again.

"I'll be back, Raoul." I said, pulling away from him and rushing up the stairs.

"Christine, don't..!"

I did not hear anything else. I was running as fast as I could, skirt in hand toward the auditorium. There I would find my way up into the rafters just as I had done when I had first seen him... and from there I would make my way up to the roof.

As I made it to the wings of the auditorium I saw a flash of red.

"Erik!" I called. Perhaps I should not have called to him but as far as I knew, the rest of the Opera was completely deserted and even if the Gendarmerie _were _present, I was certain that they did not know his name. "Erik, wait! Is that you?"

I made it to the top of the ladder only to see another flash of red above me. Was he honestly expecting me to climb in this dress?

Obviously he was.

With great difficulty I made it to the top, once above the stage I actually saw him. He was making his way past the small scenery storage areas and toward the spiral staircase that led to the roof.

"Wait, you cannot simply walk away from me after that! What are you _doing?!_" He was taking large, purposeful strides; intentionally leaving me to struggle behind him. "Erik! Look at me!"

Finally I caught up with him, taking hold of his bright red sleeve in an attempt to turn him around. He shook me off.

_"__Erik!" _I repeated, outraged. "_Did you want me to follow you or did you not!?"_

"Return to the Bal, Christine." He threw behind him.

"What... what have I _done _to you? Why did you ask me?!" I pulled at his arm again. Thankfully he stopped, but did not face me.

"I've changed my mind."

"What?! I have had to climb a ladder in this dress, Erik... _And_ if anyone should be upset, it is me! You were supposed to accompany me to this Bal and you did not. How dare you treat me with such disregard!"

"How dare _I?" _He replied, finally turning around and looming over me.

"Yes!" I said, making a conscious effort not to let him intimidate me. His eyes were outlined in thick black as part of his mask and the blue of his eyes looked more vivid than I had ever seen them. "Had you forgotten your promise? You had promised to escort me tonight!"

"I made no such promise! In fact I specifically told you that I _wasn't _able to escort you!"

"So... then I'm lying? How can you forget such a thing?!"

"And..." He continued; ignoring me. "If memory serves me correctly, you were _quite_ satisfied with the partner you _had_."

I looked down stubbornly... of course he was upset. He had seen me with Raoul.

"I waited and waited..." I pouted. Now _I _was ignoring _him. _

"Oh. You _waited?" _He spat._ "_You were with _him AGAIN, Christine! Enjoying his smiles! Dancing without a care in the world. Without a care for me!" _He pointed to himself dramatically and moved closer to me. I did not budge.

_"__I was with him because I had to be! But of course, you won't allow me to explain. I wanted to go with YOU!" _I pushed him backward in frustration but it failed to achieve anything. He didn't move._ "_Where _were _you Erik!?"

"WHERE WERE_ YOU?!" _He boomed.

"I..." I looked down. I knew exactly to what he was referring. "Erik, that night... You have no idea how hard it was for me."

"Please. Do not play the martyr here, Christine. You say that night was hard for you? What of _me_?" His eyes softened. "_Why _did you not meet me?"

"I could not!" I replied, exasperated.

"You could not?" He repeated cynically.

"No! When I left you I was approached by Raoul. He said that he had been searching for me... I had to pretend that I was ill in order to stop him questioning me further but... he _knew."_

_"_Knew _what?" _He spat.

"Knew that I had seen you. That I had not been ill at all."

"Oh? Is that a problem for you? I thought that you enjoyed the time you spent with me..."

"The problem _is _that he will be following my every move _and _yours."

Erik scoffed before turning away slightly.

I sighed; exasperated.

"You can be such a child!"

"_I _can be a child! How can you say that _I _can be a child when you do not even think past yourself!? You show little regard for anyone but who you are with at the time!"

"Don't _be _like this! You aren't _like _this!" I pushed him again, unsure of what else to do.

"Stop pushing me!" He said, irritated. "And do not lie to me, Christine. I saw you with him. I saw him in your sleeping quarters."

"You... you were _watching?_"

"Yes, I was watching! I was worried! When you didn't show I thought to myself; 'the only way she would not have come was if she were injured or ill...'" He scoffed once more. "How wrong I was."

"You aren't wrong!" I cried, forcefully taking hold of his lapels and pulling him toward me. "I _couldn't_ see you. And I hate that I had to do that to you but I would do it again... if it meant your safety I would do it again. You mean too much to me, Erik. Don't you know that by now?"

"Don't pretend that you did this for me!"

"I did it for _us_!" I pulled him close. He did not resist. Slowly I raised my hand to his mask.

"Christine..." He began, pulling away.

"Erik." I said. I reached for his mask again, this time pulling it off along with his black wig. He did not meet my gaze. I leaned in until I was mere inches from him and breathed into his ear.

"Kiss me, Erik." I said, once more hoping that he would recall a similar moment we had shared.

He looked at me and in little more than a second his lips were upon mine. The mask and wig were dropped to the ground as I wrapped my arms around him. His arms did the same, running down my back and through my hair before proceeding to hoist me up off the floor and onto a nearby craft bench. A piece of discarded porcelain fell to the ground with a crash but neither of us paid much attention to it. Before I knew what I was doing my hands were removing his clothes; his cravat was thrown to the floor and I began to work on the buttons of his waist coat once more. I knew that he was yearning to do the same with me; explore my body... ravish me, lose himself in _my _body as I lost myself in his but I knew that he would not. And as disappointed as I was, I respected his reasoning.

However as the seconds wore on... reasoning became less important.

Soon I had worked my magic on the buttons of his shirt as well and smiled as my eyes were met with bare flesh once more. I pulled away from his kiss to run my hands over his chest. I looked up at him in delight. He smiled in return before pulling my mouth towards his and capturing it once more. I could _feel_ him against me... and the sensation I had felt in his home was returning. My heart was racing. I knew that we had to stop. But I could not bring myself to achieve such a goal... nor did I _want _to. His kiss deepened before he began to move down my neck, lingering at my collarbone and moving back up. He pulled my body toward his as he did so and I found that I was doing the same thing, almost forcefully. His lips found mine again and as he moved against me a new wave of pleasure spread through me.

We had to stop...

I prayed that Erik had the strength to, because I did not...

* * *

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	20. Chapter 20

**Apologies for the delay. Thank you so much for all the reviews, they have really motivated me to get this chapter done faster so keep them coming! :D**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber **

* * *

**Erik**

I was angry with her. I was _furious. _

But she removed my mask and I did not care to stop her...

Then she looked upon my face and instructed me to _kiss her _just as she had done many nights ago. In mere seconds she had stripped me of my defenses. I did what I had done the last time she had used those words against me, what I had _wanted _to do in spite of the pain she had unwillingly put me through; I kissed her.

Soon, things had escalated to a point which she and I had never reached; a point I had vowed never _to _reach for her sake... but before her eyes I was weak, beneath her caresses I was lost and what little self restraint I had threatened to vanish entirely. Here she was before me, beseeching me to do what I had vowed not to, willing me to continue. It had been days since I had seen her and tonight her beauty truly was unearthly; unparalleled. My Opera house had never witnessed such a sight. All of Paris could not compare to what I held in my arms... and I wanted it all. With every touch it became more difficult to resist her. She knew... she knew that and yet she did not care. I daresay she even shared the sentiment. As I began placing kisses down her neck she pulled me toward her... and the sensation I experienced at such an action told me that I had to stop.

"We... we should continue to the roof." I breathed against her neck. Perhaps the crisp, Winter air would allow me to come to my senses. Also I had neglected to mind my surroundings. It was more than likely that the entire company was still downstairs at the Bal but I had to be sure. She nodded demurely, straightening her dress and hair.

"Yes..." She said, looking down bashfully.

Buttoning my shirt and picking up my mask I approached the spiral stair case. I held out my hand in gesture for Christine to ascend first. Fairly awkwardly she made it up, only turning to face me when she reached the top. It was freezing, _snowing. _I closed the door behind me and approached her slowly, rubbing my neck awkwardly. What now?

I removed my jacket and slipped it over her shoulders before stepping back slightly.

"Thank you..." She said. She looked at the mask in my hand pensively before continuing. "Are you still upset with me?"

_I don't know._

I folded my arms against the cold and averted her gaze. Perhaps I _was_ still angry with her, perhaps I was ashamed of what I had almost done just now, perhaps both.

"I had to do what I did... I know that you understand, Erik." I began. "I know that you _do! _You're just... so stubborn!"

"As are you..." I said. A childish response, yes. But I had no idea how else to proceed. I looked down at the mask in my hand and sighed. Honesty... that was what she would want. That was what she deserved. "I am not upset with you, Christine. I simply... I saw you _with _him. I saw you together that night and... then just now..."

"I know." She said softly. "But... that does not mean what you think it does! You cannot allow your jealousy to get the better of you. It is unfounded." She stepped closer to me. "This cannot work if you do not trust me; trust my judgement..."

"I know." I said. "I _know." _

"...And please." She embraced me. "Do not simply... shun me like that again. That week without you was torture."

Yes, it was. More for me than for her, I was certain of it.

"I'm sorry."I said, returning the embrace, at once reminded of her warmth and my original reason for subjecting us both to such icy temperatures. "I had convinced myself that you did not wish to see me. And... I regret that I do not recall any such agreement made concerning the Bal. If I had, of course I would have honored it regardless of the consequences."

Christine laughed. What a sound... how I had missed it.

"Well, you _were_... considerably intoxicated. It was silly of me to ask you at such a time."

"Ah." I said with a smirk. Of course... "That was quite crafty of you." I smiled. "But I will agree with you, you were quite misguided in the assumption that a deal struck at such a time would be... remembered..."

"Yes." She giggled, pulling me closer. I held her tightly and exhaled, my breath; visible in the crisp December air... or was it January? I had not cared to check the time. I pulled my pocket watch from within my waistcoat and inspected it; it was twelve fifteen... The New Year had begun.

"Look..." I said quietly, showing her the watch. "Happy New Year, Môn Ange." Christine smiled and gently pulled my head down into a kiss.

"Happy New Year, Erik." She pulled me back into an embrace and rested her head upon my chest. I was freezing. It was snowing and there was an icy wind that cut right through my shirt but I did not care. "It is a shame that we missed the fireworks." She added. What did I care for fireworks? I had the most beautiful creation with me on that rooftop. I gazed out into the night. A New Year... a new beginning. After the final performance Christine and I would leave this place together...

_Together..._

I had told her that there were things that needed taking care of... and I _had_ planned to wait, but this seemed the opportune moment.

"Christine... about... what just happened..." I began, pulling away from her warmth to look at her. I felt a rush of heat surge through me as I was reminded of what we had done.

"I know. We should not have let it get that far..."

"No, no. I... wish to discuss something with you."

She looked up at me.

"I wish to... say something to you. But I should make it quite quick."

"Quick? But Erik, I haven't seen you in so long..."

"Yes, I know. But we are both freezing and at the moment it is not safe inside... Listen, Christine. Before... in my home when we were... intimate... I told you that I could go no further until I sorted out some things."

"Yes?"

"Well, after spending time away from you I have realized that I do not wish to waste any more time. Marriage, Christine. I do not have a ring as of yet... and I do not know what I can offer you but..." I looked down, considering whether or not to drop to one knee in the snow. "But I cannot live without you, Mademoiselle Daae..." I took a deep breath. "...and if you would allow me the supreme honor of being my wife I should not want for anything else for the rest of my days..." She looked up at me, blinking; seemingly beguiled by my speech. For what it was worth, I was just as confused as she was. Such excitement and vulnerability must have seemed quite out of character but I did not _feel _like myself at all. I could not stop talking; perhaps I did not _want _to for fear of her answer.

"I understand that this is... quite a commitment to make... and there _is _much to be done, but what else matters? If you agree to this..." I was speechless. If she agreed I would likely faint from happiness. "If... you agree you will make me happier than any man has _ever _been, all my memories... all my suffering will have been nothing; it will be forgotten. If I..."

"Erik...I..." Her eyes filled with tears. Tears of happiness...tears of sadness... of fear? I did not know...

"You once told me that you wanted us to leave this place together... after the Opera, remember?"

"Yes. Of course." She smiled at me.

"Well I will do it. I would do _anything _for you, anything you asked of me. You know that, don't you?" I took another deep breath and took her hand in both of mine, dropping my mask in the snow beside me. "Christine Daae, redeem me, _save _me... Marry me."

Christine looked into my eyes and opened her mouth to speak. She was smiling... perhaps she would agree. Then her gaze shifted, she looked behind me and the smile faded from her face.

"What is this?" A voice sounded from behind me. I spun around. It was le Vicomte. That _boy._

"My god..." He added. "_This _is why you wear a mask... grotesque." I scowled at him. My mask had been discarded in the snow beside me. It was too late to replace it now. The boy turned to Christine. "You left my company... you left _me _for _this?" _

"Do not dare to address her, _boy!" _I spat. "If she was in need of your conversation she would not have... as you say _left your company." _

Raoul scoffed.

"What are you doing here, Raoul?" Christine called from behind me. It was ideal that she was behind me. This was how I preferred it. She was safe there, away from _him. _

"I came to find you, of course. And now I have, so come with me."

"I do not wish to come with you, Raoul. Please, go back inside."

"Christine, you will catch your death out here, it is snowing!"

"I am more than capable of taking care of her, Monsieur." I spat, taking a step forward. Raoul did the same and unsheathed his sword. "And what do you plan to do with that, Môn amie?" I asked, looking down at the sword now pointed at me.

"What do you think?" he responded.

"Well, _I _think that you should put that away before you injure yourself. Christine does not wish to accompany you. She has made her stance on that quite clear. If you do not honor that, I will have no choice but to take action."

"Erik, no..." Christine whispered. Raoul looked at Christine once more.

"Christine... _come!" _ As soon as he took a step toward her I placed my hand on the hilt of my sword.

"Do not come any closer, boy." I warned. Raoul smiled.

"Well..." He shrugged. "If Christine will not come with me, I shall have to take _you_ in her stead."

"_Me, _dear boy?!" I scoffed.

"I have been searching for you. The authorities have been searching for you. They are waiting... just downstairs. And... once you are in custody..."

"Perhaps you underestimate your company. The Police do not believe what you tell them, is that not true? They cannot find me, they _will _not find me." I said, slowly unsheathing my sword.

"Please, don't fight." Christine cried, resting a hand on my arm. She looked at Raoul. "You do not need to do this."

"Christine..." I whispered. "He will not let us leave. I promise, if it is your wish... I will not hurt him. Only disarm him so that we may pass." How I _wanted _to hurt him.

"What are you saying to her!?" Raoul called from across the rooftop.

"I don't believe that it is any concern of yours, Monsieur!" I raised my arm. "Consider this your last chance." I said, walking forward. "Drop your weapon and allow Christine and myself to pass, unhindered."

"You will not take her again!" Raoul gritted his teeth and lunged toward me, sword pointed at my chest. A simple parry deflected his advance, I stepped to the side and allowed his weight to take him past me. Frustrated, he lunged at me again. Several more times I blocked his attack and countered. He possessed more skill than I had expected him to and with each attack he was aiming to kill or seriously injure me. I could see it in his eyes. A look I was quite familiar with... a thirst for murder... I had promised Christine that I would not hurt him; therefore I was limited with what I could do. She simply watched, horrified... inhaling sharply with every blow that was struck.

I was beginning to lose my temper and my patience with this man was running short. I struck downward with force but Raoul deflected it. My grip was slightly loosened from his parry and before I knew it he had knocked my sword from my grasp. A hard kick to the chest sent me backward and I fell to the ground, thankfully the snow allowed for a soft landing but the wind was knocked out of me nonetheless.

I heard Christine gasp from my right. I shot her a brief glance as Raoul advanced hastily. I scrambled for my sword, thankfully taking hold of it just in time to block what would have been a killing blow. I jumped up and advanced toward Raoul, but he was blocking each one of my strikes. Then, I noticed that his grip had changed. With all my strength I hit the sword from the left, toward his opposite arm. It fell from his hand, landing in the soft snow with a dull thud. He scrambled after it but I kicked it away and held my sword to his throat.

"Bested, Monsieur." I breathed. Raoul scowled at me.

"Christine, come..." I spoke behind me, holding out my left hand for her to take. Once I felt her small hand in my own I pulled her behind me once more.

"Christine..." Raoul pleaded. "Christine, do _not _go with him. I beseech you!"

"Raoul, I am sorry." She spoke from behind me. Raoul's gaze shifted to me and his eyes narrowed. "I will find you. I will find you again and I will kill you for what you have done to me."

I said nothing, only kept my sword aimed at his throat until Christine was inside. Then I swiftly slipped inside, myself and closed the door behind me. Once there I took Christine's hand once more and led her back downstairs. Soon, we were in the wings of the auditorium; the same place we had met previously during her rehearsals. I knew that it would be deserted at this time and there was nowhere else that I could take her.

"Are you taking me to your home?" She asked as we approached the wings of the stage.

"No, I cannot. Not tonight." She looked down sadly. I touched her face gently. "I am sorry, Christine. I want nothing more than to spend more time with you, you know that. But at this very moment, Raoul is searching for me. You must return to your sleeping quarters."

She nodded.

"Erik?" She began softly. "Tomorrow I plan to visit father's grave. You... had said that..."

"Of course I will still accompany you." I said. How could I have her travelling alone after what had just transpired? I doubted that le Vicomte would ever harm her, but I could not risk it. I thought of us leaving the Opera together, even for the day. How I would love to take a carriage ride with her as any normal man would have... however, in spite of my fantasies I knew that it could not happen. "But I will have to meet you there." I added. "It is too dangerous for us to travel together... and... I expect that you will want to make your visit during the light of day?"

"Yes..."

I nodded.

"I thought as much. I will meet you there." I took her hand in mine. "I _will _be there. I promise. I apologize for any prior misunderstandings I may have caused... I believe you when you say that I had agreed to accompany you tonight and I sincerely apologize for making you wait for me... I do not want you to think that I would _ever _knowingly mislead you, or not _be_ there when you needed me."

"It is alright!" She said with a smile. "I... I don't even _care _about that. It seems so trivial now compared to what just happened. I was so worried. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" She ran her hand over my chest softly. The sensation made up for everything that had just happened. I could not hide my smile from her.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Nothing, nothing. Just... anywhere you touch me... I have missed you so much."

"And I, you." She smiled. "Does it hurt? It looked painful."

"I am fine." I said with a slight chuckle. It had been nothing, a trifle compared with what I had experienced in my years. "Do not worry for me." I took her hand. Her fussing was excessive; I think she knew that I had not been hurt. But I did not mind. I did not mind at all.

"It was awful, watching that."

"I am sorry that you had to see it. But I would do it again. To keep you safe... I would."

She reached up and stroked my face gently. I smiled to her touch and placed a kiss on her hand. Much to my dismay I heard noises from above. Raoul was probably close.

"I should go, Christine. As should you."

"Yes. Will you hold me a second longer, Erik?"

I held her tightly.

"Yes." She said quietly.

"What?" I asked absentmindedly, momentarily distracted by the scent of her hair.

"Of course I will marry you."

_What?_

"What?! You... you will?"

"Of course!" She giggled, holding me tighter.

"Oh... Christine... You don't know what you have done for me..." I was breathless. "I... I am so happy. I am _so _happy!"

"As am I." She grinned.

"I love you." I whispered.

"_I love you!"_ I said loudly. With a laugh I picked her up. She squealed in delight as her feet left the ground and I spun her around. "Stop." She laughed. "You will make me dizzy."

I stopped and looked into her eyes. She held my face in her small hands and brought her head down until our foreheads touched. Then, ever so gently she placed her lips upon mine.

Another noise sounded from above, disrupting our perfect moment. I gently put her down and looked up. Christine pulled my face back down to meet hers.

"Until tomorrow." She said. I smiled and placed a kiss upon her forehead.

"Until tomorrow." I replied.

"Oh!" She exclaimed before removing my jacket and returning it to me. I had almost forgotten. "This is yours."

I smiled and took it. "Go to your sleeping quarters, Mon Ange."

"I will. I will." She whispered. "Go."

I took her hand and kissed it once more before turning away. I did not want to leave her after so much time apart but I knew that I would see her tomorrow. As I slid into my entrance by the discarded props I turned back once more.

_GO! _I mouthed with a smile. She rolled her eyes playfully and walked in the opposite direction. I made sure that she had left the auditorium completely before I disappeared back beneath it.

* * *

**Raoul**

I was left in the snow, disarmed and broken-hearted. Perhaps it was time to give up... perhaps she really did not love me. She _had _agreed to attend the Bal with me but ran after him as soon as he appeared. Perhaps... she _could _have loved me if it were not for him. If he had stayed away for longer, she would have seen me in a different way. Whenever I had a chance with Christine, whenever she showed the slightest inkling of affection for me, he was there. I _would _find him and there would be retribution for all of it; for taking my Christine, for making me appear foolish before her... making me appear foolish before the authorities. He would pay.

I stood up and dusted my pants. Of course, it was too late. I _had _fallen in snow and my clothes were already wet. I bent down to pick up my sword and as I did I saw something several feet away from me. It was _also _white, lying there, discarded in the snow just as I had been. His mask. He had left it behind. Finally... Finally something I could show to the authorities to prove that he was real. That i had not lost my mind. They would _all _see. I picked up the object and held it in my hands, turning it over and inspecting it carefully.

His face. The rumors had been true. He wore a mask because he was deformed, and _still _Christine chose to be in his company. How was that so? They _would _meet again. They would. It was only a matter of time. I knew that all I had to do was to watch Christine even more closely than I previously had been. I had to watch her and soon enough he would reveal himself. Mask in hand, I marched to the door and swung it open. I made my way down the steps toward the auditorium. Tonight, I would sleep by Christine's bed chamber, and tomorrow I would pay a visit to Inspector Auguste and I would show him what I found...

* * *

**Christine**

Thankfully I made it back to the sleeping quarters without incident. A few of the cots around mine were still empty; supposedly their owners were still at the Bal, enjoying their partners... It had been a long night. At first I was angry with Erik... and yet desperate to see him. Then I was driven mad with lust for the man. And _then _I was sick with worry as Raoul repeatedly lunged at him with a deadly weapon. Tomorrow I would visit my father's grave and I only hoped that Erik and myself would be safe in doing so. After all, the cemetery was quite far away from the Opera and I would be leaving quite early. I could not understand why he and I could not simply _be. _Forces threatened to tear us apart at every turn and if anything were to happen to him... especially on my account I could not go on living. I lay there, smiling to myself at the thought of seeing Erik again, smiling as I re-lived the night in my mind; the moments we had shared together.

When I awoke it was very early, I could tell by the temperature _and _by the mist upon peering out the window. I crept over to another cot and peeked at the pocket watch beside the bed. Six o'clock. Most people would still be in bed due to their frivolity the night before... I hoped. I looked out the window again thoughtfully. Erik had said that he would meet me. I hadn't a clue how he would know _when _to meet me because we had not discussed a time. He would be there. He said that he would. Deciding not to dwell on it I changed and opened the door. To both my surprise and horror, the first thing I saw upon opening the door was Raoul. He was asleep in a chair directly across from my doorway.

_Asleep. _

That was something to be thankful for. I had guessed that he would be watching me closely after what had happened but I had not expected this. Not at all. Carefully I crept past him and made my way down the stairs. Perhaps I should tell Erik about what I had seen, perhaps not. He would probably not take kindly to the fact that someone _else _was watching me.

Thankfully as I opened the door to the stable there was a man preparing his horses.

"Pardon, Monsieur. Are you in service?"

"Oui." He said. "Where would you like to go?"

"The cemetery..."

"Oui." He nodded dutifully. "Allow me several minutes to prepare the carriage."

"Of course."

When I returned the driver was simply sitting at the reins. I thought it strange but I entered the carriage all the same and within seconds it had lurched into movement. After several minutes of silent travel I decided to speak.

"Do you know the cemetery well, Monsieur?"

No response.

"Have you lived here long?"

"Oh yes. Quite a long time."

_That voice._

The driver removed his hood and turned to me with a smile. I could not hide my elation at who I saw.

"Erik!"

"Christine." He teased, turning back around to face the road. He laughed as I embraced him from behind and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"How did you manage this? What of the driver?"

"It is alright. He is fine... just unconscious. I _had _planned to meet you there until this opportunity presented itself to me. Do not worry. I made sure that I was not seen."

"Good... Oh, I wish I'd known it was you, I would have sat beside you!"

"This is much more conspicuous, my dear."

Yes, it was. But I wanted to be _near_ him. I wanted him to hold me.

"Yes, I know."

"We will be there soon. Sit back down Môn Ange. I must replace my hood. We cannot be too careful now." He placed a kiss on my hand and held the reins in both hands. I sat back down in my seat and smiled.

* * *

He brought the horses to a halt and jumped down from the front before removing his cloak and offering me his hand. I took it with a smile.

"Thank you for accompanying me." I said.

"You are very welcome." He said. We walked to the cemetery hand in hand.

"Don't we need to go around to the front?"

"Not necessarily." He said. "There is... well not an entrance as such but we _can _enter from this side." He led me to a small gap in the fence and slipped through before holding out his hand and beseeching me to do the same. I wondered how he knew about this entrance and then it occurred to me that he had probably come here prior to today... if _I _had come here, odds were that _he _had. I thought it prudent not to mention it.

My father's grave was at the back of the cemetery therefore we entered right near it.

"This is it." I said as I released Erik's hand and stood before the mausoleum. He simply smiled... I had a feeling he knew _exactly _which one it was. He slowly approached me and stood beside me, hands in pockets.

"Do you wish for some time alone with your father?"

"No..." I said, rubbing his back affectionately. "Don't leave."

Erik put his arm around my shoulders and placed a kiss atop my head. I shivered as he held me. The temperature was dropping as each day passed. Erik removed his cape and wrapped it around my shoulders.

"Thank you." I smiled.

"Are you... are you sure you do not wish for time alone? I just..." He rubbed his neck awkwardly. I was beginning to see that it was a habit of his. "I think it may be inappropriate, me being here... given everything..."

_Everything. _

I knew exactly what he meant.

"I will just... I'll give you some time alone."

"Well, don't go far." I said, slightly uneasy.

"Of course not." He smiled. "I will be back in a few minutes. "I saw him wander away, hands in pockets once more and I smiled to myself. It was always refreshing to see him out of his element. Usually _he _was the one in control, powerful; omnipotent... but there were times when I saw another side to him, when inexperience or self-doubt caused me to see his vulnerability. Times when he was awkward or unsure like me or any other person. Times when he would give away a simple, unguarded smile because he had either forgotten himself or didn't know how else to react. I lived for those moments...

I turned back to my father's grave;

_Gustave Daae._

What would my father have thought of such a man? I could not help but think that father would have approved of Erik or at the very least admired him...

I heard a sound behind me and convinced that it was Erik, spun around with a smile.

_Raoul._

* * *

**Please let me know what you think! **


	21. Chapter 21

The reviews have been great. Thank you so much for sticking with this story!

Chapter 21! Enjoy!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

* * *

**Erik**

I walked away from her in order to give her the space she needed. After all that had happened between us; all that had been confessed it did not seem right to be present at such a moment. I had never thought much on religion… the afterlife, _anything _other than the harsh reality I had grown used to. But if there _were _an afterlife, and if the late Gustave Daae _was _watching us as we stood before his final resting place… I wanted to give him the respect he deserved. After all, what _would _he think of a man who had pretended to be _him _in order to win his daughter's affections? The more I thought about it, the worse it seemed.

I wandered behind some gravestones near her father's mausoleum. Of course, there was nothing I wished to see there, I simply wished to be out of sight of Christine _and _her father… I wondered where my mother was resting? She _was _dead. That much I knew. I had discovered _that_ several years ago…

Folding my arms against the cold I took a seat on a bench several yards from Christine. She was in sight, I made sure of that. It was snowing now, just as it had been last night… on the rooftop… Last night had been wondrous. Just as every second _was _with Christine… I watched her as she stared at the mausoleum before her. She was not speaking… she did not look to be praying. If she was it must have been internally… I had been watching her so intently that I failed to notice the man approaching her from behind. It was only when she, herself turned around did shift positions so that I could see who she was staring at.

_Raoul…_

As soon as I saw who it was I felt the overwhelming need to approach him, protect Christine… but when I saw that he was alone the need lessened. Soundlessly I stood up and made my way closer to the man. Christine's eyes darted toward me and I hoped that le Vicomte had not noticed. Yes, she was searching for me. She was expecting me to come to her aid… and come to her aid I would.

"What are you doing here, Raoul?"

"Are you alone, Christine?"

"Y-Yes." She stammered. _Good girl._

"Not very convincing, Christine."

"Of course I am alone! Do you think that I would allow anyone to accompany me _here? _I have come to visit my father. That is all."

Raoul studied her for a moment, brow furrowed in consternation.

"Well…" He shrugged. "I am glad that you are alone." He stepped forward. "I… could not find you at the Opera and so I thought that I might find you here. I remember you telling me that you wished to visit your father soon after the new year had begun…"

I grimaced slightly at the thought of he and Christine in such conversation but reminded myself that she must have told him this weeks ago, while she and I were not speaking. I could not blame her for seeking out company when I abandoned her so.

"When you are ready, I thought that I might escort you back…"

"Raoul, I have told you! I do not wish to see you, and after the way you treated Erik last night you are fortunate that I am speaking to you at all!"

I smiled.

"The way _I _treated _him? _If you recall, _I _was the one left lying in the snow. While you two ran off together."

"_You _interfered with _us!"_

"I simply came in search of my date… you _had _agreed to be my date, if you recall."

"I only agreed to that to throw you off the scent! Of course I did not wish to attend the Bal with you!_"_

"I see, Christine…" Raoul took a deep breath. I could see that he was hurt but I did not care. This time Christine stepped forward, seemingly frustrated.

_"__Why _do you insist on treating him in such a way when you know of my affections for him?!"

"Because I know what is best for you!" Raoul cried, stepping closer to her. My hand fell to the hilt of my sword. "And… well _I _love you! I cannot bear the thought of _him _because I know that it is _I _whom you should truly be with…" Raoul was exasperated. Out of breath with emotion… I knew exactly how he felt. I felt the same about Christine and truthfully if I were in his situation I would be reacting the same way. Perhaps worse.

"If you truly loved me you would want my happiness!"

"I do! Of course I do! But you must _see _what he _is!"_

"I know what he is." She said sternly. "We have had this conversation, Raoul. Please leave so that I may return to what I was doing… _the purpose for which I came here!" _She shot another glance in my direction. I knew then that I could wait no longer. She was beckoning me to come to her aid… and while it seemed foolish to show myself when I did not necessarily need to, I could not deny her. I could see that the boy would not be easily convinced and sooner or later I would have to intervene anyway. It was better to do so before he'd had a chance to lay a hand on her. I knew that he wouldn't hurt her… but all the same the idea of him touching her at all made me uneasy.

"Christine, please…" Just as I had expected him to do, he stepped toward her. She took a small step backward before glancing in my direction once more. Her eyes seemed to widen as I actually came into view. Slowly, I emerged from behind the tombstones and stood before him, purposefully placing myself between Christine and himself. I gave her a small smile before turning to face him. His eyes narrowed.

"_You." _He said. "Always _here _aren't you. Always ready to come to her rescue…"

"Of course." I said. "But she would not need rescuing if you had done as she bid and left. Christine is clearly uncomfortable in your presence, Monsieur. I must insist that you leave."

"It does not matter to me what you _insist. _I will leave when I am ready and not a moment sooner."

"So you would purposefully upset the woman you claim to love for the sake of pride?"

"I would do what needs to be done in order to keep her away from _you_." He sneered, "Sooner or later the authorities will find you… and when that happens Christine will see the error of her ways… of _yours." _

I shrugged.

"Christine will see what she will see." I removed my sword from my belt and held it up. "But if you think my capture to be realistic in this scenario…" I stepped forward slightly. "Need I remind you of our last meeting?"

"I remember quite well." Raoul replied, removing his own sword and pointing it at me.

"You will not take me… and you will not take Christine." My voice was low. My gaze was fixed upon his. I had not intended to engage in anything like this with the boy but things had unfolded in such a way that I could see no other way. I addressed Christine but did not take my eyes off my opponent.

"I know that you do not approve of this, Christine. But I think that le Vicomte means to harm me in order to get to you…"

Raoul grinned.

"le Vicomte means to harm you regardless of the outcome." He said.

* * *

**Christine**

I watched in helpless anxiety just as I had done before. My heart was in my mouth as both men raised their swords and stepped toward each other. In a matter of moments there would be chaos; the ringing of metal in my ears… the shuffling of boots as the snow gave way to their footfalls. Erik said something to me but I was oblivious. I did not want this to happen. I did not. But I could see that there was no way around it. Raoul was intent on taking me back to the Opera… and he was intent on delivering Erik to the authorities. Bloodshed was the last thing that I wanted but I could not live knowing that Erik was facing the gallows, _certainly _not due to my carelessness.

Before I could properly comprehend what was happening the men had advanced toward one another with their swords raised. All I had wanted was to visit the grave of my father with the man I loved… how had such violence come from something such as that?

I took several steps backward as Raoul's blade forced Erik toward me. He was throwing his sword down with such force… I don't know how Erik was able to hold his up. He blocked the strikes thrown at him and began striking at Raoul with the same ferocity, sending _him _backward. Both men were blocking, advancing, dodging and weaving around each other's blades, throwing one another around the cemetery and into tombstones as they went. Raoul threw a particularly fierce strike at Erik who happened to be standing in front of a small ledge. Much to my horror the strike sent him falling backward, tripping over the ledge as he reached for balance. His sword was knocked from his grasp but he managed to take hold of it just in time to block another strike. I allowed myself a small breath of relief… From the ground, Erik kicked at Raoul, sending him backward into the snow. Erik jumped up and rushed toward him. Raoul had lost his sword just as he had the night before… He reached for it… but was too late. Erik kicked it away from him and held his sword to Raoul's throat.

"Bested again, Monsieur." He breathed.

"Erik…" I called. "Don't…"

"I won't…" He said partly under his breath. "But I would dearly love to…"

"Do it, then." Raoul challenged. "Just do it… Be the murderer she knows you to be. The murderer you know _yourself _to be."

"You'd like that wouldn't you." He said. I saw Raoul smiling from where I stood. And I saw him reaching for his boot but it was too late… Before I could cry out he had drawn a small knife and slashed Erik across the leg. He yelled. His leg buckled beneath him and he withdrew his sword long enough for Raoul to scramble out from beneath his blade and pick up his _own _sword once more. With a grimace, Erik stood to full height and pointed his blade toward his opponent once more.

"Clever." He said with the slight inclination of his head.

"You _should _have done it while you had the chance." He smirked. He turned to me. "It is alright, Christine. He is wounded. It should not be long now."

"Erik, are you alright?" I called, ignoring him. Erik did not respond. His gaze was once more fixed upon Raoul.

"Advance, Monsieur." He said, his voice; low once more.

"As you wish." Raoul replied, rushing toward Erik with more ferocity than before. I knew that Raoul had served time in the Military… and while Erik had quite a reputation I had not much considered his fighting skill; where had he learned it? Would it be enough…?

Erik parried and countered several times before his sword was locked with Raoul's. He pushed against him with all the force he had. Raoul did the same. Erik had to be the stronger man… And he seemed to be winning until Raoul kicked out his injured leg…

Suddenly Erik was on the ground and before I could speak, Raoul had thrust his sword downward... A low, guttural yell escaped Erik as the blade went through him.

"_Erik!" _I screamed in desperation. I ran toward him, my knees buckling as I reached him and my eyes were met with the blood... _his _blood. "_Erik! My god... please..." _I looked up at Raoul. _"What have you done!?"_

_"__What have I done?!" He cried. "What have I done, Christine?! I saved your life... and mine! The man attacked me, you saw it!_

_"__He challenged you for me! It would not have happened if you had just left! Why would you do this... why?!" _I cried. I turned back to Erik. "You'll be alright... you will!"

"Ch-Christine..." He mumbled through gritted teeth, holding his hand tightly over his stomach in attempt to stem both the blood flow and the pain. Unfortunately his efforts were achieving neither.

"Shh... you will be alright. We are going to fix this, alright?" I cried, placing my hands over his and pressing down. He threw his head back and squirmed in pain but it had to be done. I turned to Raoul once more. _"Raoul you need to get help, take the horse and find a doctor?!"_

_"__You must be joking, Christine!? Come away, now." _He reached down and took hold of my arm, attempting to pull me away from the man lying in the snow; the man whom I loved...

"No! What are you doing! No! I will not leave him!"

Raoul pulled harder. Erik did not possess the strength to stop him and I knew that if he were not entirely preoccupied he would have been furious.

"Christine... come!" I snatched my hand away. Raoul took a deep breath. "Look, you cannot stay here. You will freeze to death! Come back with me... I promise to send someone for him."

"No... no, you will not. You will not and he will die... If you still feel any affection for me whatsoever, please... grant me this."

"I cannot." He said. "I would do anything for you but I will not help this man. I will not undo what I have done."

"Leave, then. If you will not help, leave us."

"Christine, if you do not accompany me this instant I will send no doctor, I will send the authorities after him."

"You will do so anyway." I sneered. I placed my hands over Erik's wound and applied pressure once more. He could not bleed to death. He could not.

"So be it." He spat. He strode away and I heard him mount his horse once outside the gates.

"C-Christine..." Erik called again, now a whisper.

"_Yes?!" _Tears were now freely falling down my cheeks.

"H-he is... right..."

"What? About what?"

"Y-you will –y-you will freeze... if you s-stay."

"Well, I am not leaving. We need to get you out of here..."

"It is... n-not possible..."

"It has to be."

"I...c-cannot move."

"You have to." I said indignantly. "The carriage?"

He nodded and gestured weakly behind him.

"Well then it is simple. We move you to the carriage. That is the first step."

He smiled wanly. He was growing paler by the second. Clearly we were doing nothing for the bleeding.

"I... I cannot, C-Christine. Y-you... you go..."

"You are wasting time. I am not leaving you." The snow beneath him was now a dark red... and it was slowly spreading. I knew that I needed to stop the bleeding before anything else. "Hold on." I said. I scrambled to where Erik's discarded sword lay in the snow and used it to cut the seam of my dress. I tore away the entire hem of the dress and made my way back to Erik.

"This is going around the wound. You need to lift your body up so that I can wrap it around you."

Eyes closed, he shook his head.

_"__Stop being so stubborn! Do you wish to die!? Is that it?"_

He looked at me weakly.

"_What of me? What of us; our plans? Would you simply just leave me now? Leave me alone on this Earth?!"_

Erik grimaced and nodded for me to continue with what I was doing. With a pained grunt he rolled onto his side so that I could push the piece of fabric beneath him. He yelled as I reached beneath him and pulled it out the other side.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

Then, as tightly as I could, I tied it around him. Again, he yelled in pain as I did so but I tried my best to ignore it. I had to do what was best for him if I was to save his life.

"Alright, now... we get up."

"C-Christine... I cannot."

"Yes you can!" I cried. "You _have _to!"

The wound was on his left side so I moved around to his right and took hold of his arm.

"You must help me; I cannot do this by myself." I cried, slightly frustrated.

He nodded in compliance, the grimace never leaving his face.

He placed his hand over his stomach and slowly sat up. I sat down beside him and pulled his arm over my shoulder. Then, with all my might I pulled. He was incredibly heavy, and if it weren't for his efforts I would not have moved him at all. As he stood he cried out in pain. I could tell that every movement was excruciating. He would not show his pain unless he was absolutely desperate and it drained me to witness it.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I said.

"It...is alright..." He breathed.

"Lean on me as much as you need to..." I offered. I hoped that he did not take it literally. There was no way that I would be able to support his full weight. I knew that and so did he. As he stood up I caught sight of the snow that was beneath him... It was bright red and there was so much of it. I knew that I didn't have much time. Ever so slowly we made our way to the back of the cemetery and began to walk to the carriage. I glanced back at Erik, he was very pale and there was a thin sheen of sweat covering his face from the exertion.

_Please, father. Please help me now. I need you now more than ever._

"T-that bad?" He asked.

"No... what? No, you look fine." I lied. He smiled weakly.

"I- I can s-see it in your eyes..." he began. "I... I h-have lost a lot of b-blood. And... I-I'm g-getting weaker."

"You... have lost a lot. _But we will fix this! I promise."_

_I can't lose you._

"I- I may n-not make it..." He said quietly.

_"__You will!" _I looked ahead. "_Look! We are almost there!_" I leaned him against a stone wall near our entrance and slipped through the gap in the fence. Then I held out my hands for him to follow me. I knew that it was going to be hard but I knew that he could do it. Leaning heavily on the fence with one hand and holding his wound with the other he began to follow me through. At the last second he lost his footing and fell through the gap, landing in the snow on the other side.

"_Are you alright?!"_ I rushed to his aid. "Come, get up. You are almost there."

"_I cannot!"_ He growled, no doubt frustrated with himself.

_"__You can and you will!" _

He looked up at me with pained eyes. I hated that I had to force him into something that would bring him pain but if not me, who? There was no one else that could help him. He cried out as he pushed himself up off the ground.

"You can do it, Môn Ange… You _can!"_

Finally we made it to the carriage. Haphazardly I swung open the door and pushed him inside. He put all his weight on one leg and using only one arm managed to pull himself inside. I knew that I would have to drive the carriage; I would need to sit on top of it, away from him… I wanted nothing more than to be able to have him with me but I knew that he would not have been viable. Not in his condition. I placed a kiss on his forehead before closing the door.

"Please… hang on, Erik. We are leaving now. Hang on."

"Yes…" He spoke. The fact that he was able to speak at all gave me hope. I hoped that I had stemmed the blood flow. If he were not in danger of bleeding to death I would have more time to comprehend what I was going to do in order to save his life…

* * *

**Raoul**

"_Inspector… I know that you are there!"_ I stood knocking at the door of Inspector Auguste, that _fiend's _mask in hand. I had been told that he was not to be disturbed but I was certain that he would _not _have fault with my visit once he was aware of its purpose.

"Inspector!" I called again. My knocking did not cease. Finally, the door opened to reveal the Inspector in his shirtsleeves, iced palmier in hand.

"What is the meaning of… Vicomte? What are you doing here?" He questioned. "I am very sorry to be rude but you disturb me in the middle of a much earned break… What is it?"

"You will want to hear this…" I began. I held up the mask… "I assure you."

Inspector Auguste's gaze shifted to the item in my hand and it did not move as he opened his door further and invited me inside.

* * *

**Please review! :)**


	22. Chapter 22

Sorry for the delay! Im juggling music, work, a design internship and i just got an interview for another one and uni is starting this week! Things are crazy! Many thanks for the reviews, i got quite a few for the last chapter which was great! Its really interesting to hear where people think the story is going, and whether or not they like where it is going!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

Enjoy!

* * *

**Raoul**

Inspector Auguste's gaze shifted to the item in my hand and it did not move as he opened his door further and invited me inside. I had not been inside his office prior to this morning, and once there I was not particularly interested in my surroundings. They were as you would expect them to be; an Inspector's office… stark, austere… dimly lit…

"I am surprised to find you here this morning, Inspector." I commented as he closed the door behind me.

"Ah yes…" He began thoughtfully. "It is New Year's Day… It seems that I need constant reminding… At least… since my wife passed."

I nodded solemnly. I had heard news of the Inspector's wife not months ago and propriety told me to offer some words of consolation, but I said nothing. The inspector's gaze turned toward the mask in my hand and he licked his lips anxiously.

"Now tell me… what brings you here on such a morning?" He asked, his gaze never leaving the mask. I smiled.

"You told me that you could find nothing on the man in Mademoiselle Daae's dressing room. And I know that part of you did not believe my words…" The inspector motioned to speak but I held up my hand in protest. "I know that you did not. And I understand… how could you possibly believe what I was telling you? It seemed ridiculous." I gave a cynical chuckle before looking up at the man before me. "A man in a mask coming out of a mirror… preposterous… But now I have proof." I threw the mask haphazardly onto his desk before speaking again. "I have his mask."

The inspector gave a slight smirk before turning to face the object I had almost thrown at him.

"_His _mask?" He picked up the object and turned it over in his hands. I nodded.

"When did you find this?" He asked.

"I found it after the Bal Masque…. On the…."

"…After the Bal Masque." The Inspector repeated, his tone border lining on condescending.

"Yes… I found it on the roof after…"

"Monsieur…" He began, placing the object down on the desk before him and walking toward me. "You have found a mask after the Masquerade… how am I to take this as evidence…"

"Evidence of _his _existence! The Phantom!"

"With all due respect, le Vicomte. This could belong to anyone!"

"It could but it does not! Listen to me, Inspector. He appeared at the Bal. Appeared before the entire company… and Christine followed him. I found them on the roof and his mask had been discarded in the snow…" I cringed inwardly as I continued. "It looked as though they had been… their clothes were…"

"Monsieur…" He began again, his tone now decidedly patronising.

_"Do you think that I would lie about this? Do you honestly believe that I would come here on this morning, prepared to lie to an Inspector such as yourself? What do you take me for?! Does my reputation not stand as evidence of my character? Of my hubris?" _

_"_Of course it does but…"

"_I found them together and that monster attacked me! He left me in the snow… but this morning… I found them… I found them together again… and I bested him. This time I left HIM."_

_"You what?"_

"That is why I am here, Inspector. You must arrest him before he has a chance of getting away."

"What have you done, Vicomte?"

"I have wounded him. And she will try to help but she will not be able."

"You have wounded… Who have you wounded?" The inspector questioned, exasperated. "Have you attacked an innocent man..? What have you done?"

"Innocent! You are aware of his crimes!"

"I am aware of the crime committed, yes!"

"And he has committed them! Will you not come with me and arrest him? Bring him to retribution for what he has done?"

"Why did you not leave this in the hands of the authorities, Monsieur?"

_"I DID! And you did nothing! Now do you wish to catch him or not?"_

After a few seconds of what must have been silent deliberation, the Inspector gave a quick nod before summoning two of his men and ordering a few others to prepare horses.

* * *

**Erik**

Much of the carriage ride was a blur, my head was swimming and my eyelids were heavy. Thankfully though, the pain in my stomach was excruciating; this was a good sign. Harsh experience had taught me that if i could feel pain then i was not close to death. Months ago i would not have cared either way... but not now. Not now that the woman i loved cared for me in return and wished so dearly for me to live. If nothing else i would hold on for her. Every jolt sent daggers of pain through me and i was convinced that i had not stopped bleeding. This was not a burden i wished to bestow upon Christine but i had little choice in the matter and she seemed determined for me to live.

"Hold on, Erik!" Her voice called from somewhere ahead of me. I lacked the strength to respond. Part of me wondered whether or not i had actually heard her voice, but part of me; the most part used it as an anchor. She kept me conscious and she kept me present. Whether or not it was her voice as part of my creation, I used it to stay with her; to stay alive.

I loved Christine but I hated relying on anyone, as soon as I had been able to I stopped needing people. But without her I knew that I would surely die… The only thing I loathed more than having to depend upon her was the fact that I was not able to protect her. When her boy had landed the blow he had attempted to take her away and I would not have been able to stop him. Not at all. Now, I hated the boy for what he had done to me. Not the pain so much as the principle and the degradation of it all. And for what he had done to Christine by association. I could see her hurting. I could see her crying. And in spite of myself; my crippling self-doubt and my insecurities I was beginning to see that she actually _did _care for me, and that if something were to happen to me now, she would be quite devastated.

"Erik… are you awake?" She called behind her anxiously. "You must stay awake!" She turned around, reins in hand. I nodded weakly and waved dismissively. I was awake. My love for her was keeping me awake. My hate for the boy was keeping me lucid. The pain was keeping me alert. Who knew that there was a benefit to hate and discomfort?

Seemingly satisfied with my gesture she turned back around; worry deeply etched in the lines of her face. I hated that I was doing this to her…

After what seemed hours but what must have been mere minutes, the carriage came to a halt. I opened my eyes to see Christine scrambling towards me. I cringed as she shook me gently. After having closed my eyes briefly I found that I didn't want to move. I wanted to give in to the soundless darkness that was beckoning me. It was warm and welcoming and it would only take a few more minutes… maybe an hour…

"Erik!" She shook me again and pulled at the arm that wasn't wrapped around my waist.

"Are… are we here?" I asked sleepily.

"We are at the Opera…" She responded. "There is no one around… is there another way in?"

_Another way…_

_Of course there is…_

I could not focus on her question or what she was asking me to do…

"Another way…" I repeated.

"Another way inside!" She demanded, taking note of my decline and growing more desperate. "A side entrance, perhaps?!"

_Entrance…._

_Side…_

_The Rue Scribe side…_

_"AH… _on… the Rue Scribe side…"

"Alright well we have to hurry!" She jumped down beside me and pulled at my arm again. I yelled out as the movement caused my injury to scream. She gasped and released my arm directly.

"I'm so sorry!" She cried. I smiled at her weakly. I had not meant to discourage her at all but thankfully the pain had shaken me out of my sleep-like state.

"We… we need to go… before I cannot."

She nodded and took hold of my arm once more. With a pained grunt I managed to heave myself out of the carriage. I knew that this part would be exceedingly difficult. The Opera House was not small… and we were on the wrong side. Thankfully the streets were empty but I was completely vulnerable. What if we were spotted by the Police? By Raoul? We began the long, painful walk to the Rue Scribe side and many times the pain threatened to overcome me. I dearly wanted to give up; to give in but Christine continually urged me on. She took on much of my weight both physically and psychologically. When we reached our destination I gestured to a small grate on the façade; it led to the Chapel and eventually beneath the Opera. Once finally inside, she allowed me to rest against a wall while she closed the grate.

"I think that I should get help." She began as she walked back to me. "Perhaps you should stay here and I should fetch Madame Giry?"

"No…" I murmured. "No… It is too dangerous. We must go directly to my home."

"Erik… I don't know what to do! You… you are in so much pain and I don't know what to do…" To my horror she fell to the ground and began to weep.

"C-Christine…" It pained me to see this; almost as much as the slice through my stomach. "You… are s-so strong. Y-you do not even know… I wish that you could see yourself a-as I see you." With a grimace I pushed myself up against the chapel wall and held my stomach tightly. The pain was incredible and it had not lessened in the slightest. "Y-you are brave and… and resourceful in a ways that I could never be… and I trust you… I trust you with m-my life. We will make it to my home and once there, I will do the rest." Truthfully I had no idea how far I would make it. "One step at a time."

Christine looked up at me. I wanted nothing more than to wipe her tears, caress her porcelain skin… to hold her… But I could not. I could not and that was why she was crying.

"I-I hate to sound insensitive my dear… b-but we should move before my strength depletes a-any further."

_And before I bleed on the chapel floor._

"Of course…" She said, wiping her tears and moving towards me.

I said strength. And that was true but it was taking all that I had not to scream out in agony with every movement that I made.

She held my face in her hands and placed a tender kiss upon my lips. At that moment I loved her more than I ever thought possible. I cannot say why. Perhaps it was the desperation in her kiss… perhaps not. I returned the kiss with what strength I had.

"Will you help me up?" I asked with a pained smile. She seemed thrilled with the fact that I was finally asking for and willing to accept her assistance.

"You needn't ask." She smiled, wiping her eyes again.

With great difficulty we made it down the stairs, she only allowed me to rest once we had reached the very edge of my lake; the boat docked, ready to take us the rest of the way. I cursed under my breath, but without such forceful motivation I knew that I would still be in the cemetery, likely bleeding or freezing to death.

"Almost there." She breathed after helping me into the boat. I lay back and closed my eyes, allowing myself to become lost in the temporary serenity of the natural reverb of the cavern and the water gently lapping against the side of the boat from our movement.

"Thank you, Christine." I said, my eyes still closed. "In all honestly, I doubted whether or not I would make it this far."

"I know you did…" She replied, her voice contrite. She looked down.

"_You _did this…" I said. "You, alone. You are so strong, Christine. My heart bleeds with happiness, knowing that you care this much for me."

She looked into my eyes and smiled for a few seconds, allowing herself a moment of indulgence before stepping into the boat herself and picking up the long pole I had previously used to push the boat toward my home.

"Alright." She began purposefully. "Now tell me how to move this thing…"

* * *

**Christine**

With each miss, each failed turn I looked down at Erik, lying in the boat with his eyes closed. How much longer did I have? With each passing second he was losing more blood, becoming paler and whatever happened it would be my fault. Willingly or not he had put his life in my hands.

"Hold on…" I spoke without looking at him. "You… you cannot die." I added, more a whisper.

"Yes…" He replied. It wasn't much of a response but at least he was acknowledging me.

The journey had been exhausting. I knew that there were other ways through which to enter Erik's home, for I had found one of them myself. But I trusted his judgement, regardless of how delirious he was. He had made the choice for us to come this way and I did not see need to question him. I never had. After what seemed like hours of painstakingly manoeuvring his boat through the twists and turns of the cellars we arrived at the entrance to his home, guarded by a portcullis. Usually he had been the one to open it but he was far from capable.

"Erik…" I called down, turning around to face him. "How do we get in?"

He didn't respond.

"Erik…" I shook the boat slightly. "Where is the lever?!"

His eyes were still closed.

_Closed… Eyes closed…_

Immediately I crouched down in front of him, dropping the pole into the water in my haste.

"Wake up!" I demanded, practically climbing atop him and shaking him by the shoulders. _"Erik! Wake up! You must wake up!" _

To my relief he slowly opened his eyes.

"Christine…" He seemed surprised. "Are… we there?"

"_My god!" _I cried. I fell atop him and pulled him into an embrace, forgetting any sense of propriety and only minding his injuries when he yelled out. "_I'm sorry!" _I spoke into his chest. I looked up at him.

"_You mustn't fall asleep! Do you understand_! I thought you were gone! I thought you had left me!"

He smiled weakly at me, lifting his hand in order to gently trace my chin with his thumb. His hand was shaking as he did so, and it allowed me to recall the urgency of the situation and why we were there in the first place.

"I… I told you that I would not, remember?" He said softly.

_Yes. Yes, he had. _

Since I had carelessly dropped the pole for the boat, I was forced to exit and using my foot, feel around for it in the murky water. But in spite of his delirious state, Erik was able to direct me as to where it should be and what to do with it. Therefore thankfully it did not take long. I pushed the boat the rest of the way and once close to the shore I dragged him out and onto the floor of his home. His clothes were already wet from the snow and the blood… therefore I doubted it mattered. My aim was to tend to him as soon as possible and therefore I ignored his protestations as I heaved him across the cold stone and towards his bedchambers.

"Erik… you have to get up…" I breathed.

"I h-have n-nothing left, Christine… I cannot…"

"You can! I have not brought you all this way just for you to give up! You must get up! One more time! Just once more!"

He looked at me with pained eyes before attempting to stand. It took a few tries but with much encouragement we made it up the stairs and into the bedchambers I had slept in upon our first meeting. He collapsed upon the bed as soon as he reached it. He had wanted to reach his own bed but he hadn't the strength to make it there. I knew it and so did he.

"Alright." I began, out of breath. "See! I told you we would make it. One step at a time."

"Yes…" He managed as he closed his eyes. "You told me…"

I sat down beside him and stroked his face gently. He smiled to my touch but he was so pale and his skin was clammy.

"What do I do now?" I asked desperately. Now that I had him here I had no idea what to do in order to help him. I knew that I needed to stop the bleeding but the thought of using a needle and thread on his skin made my stomach lurch…

"I… I have a box for… occasions s-such as this. Y-you will find it in… in my bathroom."

_Bathroom?_

"…Where is that?"

He smirked slightly before responding and I could not help but smile at the thought that the Erik I knew and loved was still there amidst all that pain and confusion.

"M-my bedchambers…" He managed.

"Alright." I said dutifully. I bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I'll return momentarily."

I found the box to which he had been referring. It was sitting neatly on a table just inside the door of his bathroom…

_His bathroom…_

Of course he had a bathroom. It was foolish and ignorant of me to think otherwise but even now, even after we had become so close and he; so real, it was hard to accept such domestic aspects of a man like him. I opened the box I was holding and frowned at what I saw. Some sort of liquid… I looked at the label; Carbolic Acid… I hadn't the faintest clue what it was but somehow I knew what it was for. I cringed as I sifted through the box; thread, gauze, needles… This was not going to be easy. Deciding that I had already dwelled upon it for far too long, I hurried back to Erik. When I found him he was attempting to struggle out of his clothing.

"Wait, wait!" I called as I ran up to him. "What are you doing!? You should have known I would have helped you with this?"

"I… I didn't want to be any more of… a b-burden…" He managed as his hands fumbled at the buttons on his waistcoat.

"You could have caused more bleeding, Erik!" I cried, swatting his hands away. "Stop! Let me!"

He rolled his eyes but lay back and allowed me to do the rest. I untied the tattered piece of clothing that had been holding the bleeding at bay… hopefully. Then I set to work on the buttons of his waistcoat; once a deep gold was now red. I peeled it back and cringed as my eyes were met with his shirt; completely red and plastered to his body. I watched as his chest rose and fell, every breath was visible, every inhalation. I could see every ounce of pain written in his quick, shallow breaths and I wanted nothing more than to give up, than to simply lie beside him and pretend that nothing had happened. But then nothing _would _happen. He would die. And that would be all. I took a deep breath and continued. Soon, he was stripped down to the waist, and my eyes widened in horror. The wound looked much worse than I had imagined beneath his clothes. I hoped it was just the blood.

"It is alright, Christine." He smiled weakly. "I do not expect you to do this… But… I w-will need you to p-pour that liquid… on the wound for me..." He pointed to the box I had set down beside me. "C-can you do that? I… scarcely possess the… the w-willpower to do it m-myself…"

"I… What is it?" I asked, opening the box. "Carbolic Acid… what is it?"

"It… it is an antiseptic… I… I have heard that Iodine is… is n-now the antiseptic of c-choice; less painful. But… I'm afraid I… have none." He looked up at me and placed his shaky hand upon mine. "Are you ready?"

I shook my head. Was I ready to willingly put him through more pain? Of course not.

He smiled.

"…Do it." He said, taking a fistful of the sheets beneath him and clenching his jaw in preparation.

I did as I was bid, slowly removing the cap from the bottle in my hands and holding it over him.

"…Do it. Y-you have to." He spoke.

"I… I can't! I can't hurt you!"

"You must, Christine."

My gaze shifted from him to the bottle in my hands. Yes. I had to. I knew that I had to…

Before I could stop myself I turned the bottle over; a good amount spilling out onto his wound. He cried out in pain but did not move. The wound hissed beneath my hand. What had I done?

"_I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"_ I cried.

"It… is alright…" He managed through gritted teeth. "It is alright… There… is o-one more thing I must ask of you… W-would you p-please wash the needle and thread… in the acid...?"

Taking deep breaths I did as he asked and handed him the needle. He held it out before him but I could see that his hand was shaking and almost immediately I was aware that he was incapable of the task… I could not simply watch him struggle.

"Here… I…" I took the needle from him before he was able to protest. "Give it to me… I will do it." He looked up at me. "I will do it." I repeated. I thought that he would protest out of pride as he had been, something in line with his usual character but he did not. He accepted and I knew then that things must have been bad.

"Thank you." He said weakly.

"You need to tell me what to do…" I began, washing my hands in the same liquid I had poured over his wound. I looked down at what I was about to undertake. The acid had cleaned the wound well and I was able to see the incision clearly. Thankfully it wasn't as large as I had first imagined it to be, and Raoul's blade mustn't have struck anything major, if he had things would be much worse. "Has it gone through...?" I asked apprehensively. Erik looked at me quizzically. "To the other side?" I added.

"No… I… I don't think so…"

"Alright. That's… that's something." Things could always be worse… "Now, tell me what to do."

Erik instructed me as to where to make the incisions, where to tie them off and how many to make. He flinched as I began but other than that he didn't show any signs of being in pain at all.

"T-the… A-ancient Greeks and Egyptians were known to use honey to heal wounds." He inhaled sharply as the needle entered his flesh a second time. "…D-did you know that, Christine?"

"No. I did not." I said slightly dismissively. Ordinarily his every word would regale me, but I was concentrating and I knew that he was only speaking because he was doing the same. I looked at him. "I am sorry… this is just… very difficult. How is the pain?"

"Fine." He said. But I knew that he would say that regardless of what he was feeling.

I continued on in silence for the next few stitches.

"Is the pain still fine?" I asked.

He smirked.

"The pain is quite bad… b-but your stitching is nothing. You are doing well."

"This is… well it is the first time I have stitched skin… I must say."

"Does the needle not hurt at all?" I asked, still not convinced with his answer. I tied the final stitch and looked down at my handiwork. At least the bleeding had stopped.

He smirked again.

"This is not the first time I have been through something like this…"

I bit my lip awkwardly.

"Y-your back?" I asked apprehensively. He had not been overly excited to discuss the scars on his back when I had last brought them up and now was probably not the best time for me to do it again.

To my surprise he nodded. I looked down at his torso and he averted his gaze as I did so.

"And… I felt others…" I gently traced the scars on his ribs and chest I had previously felt beneath my fingers but had not been brave enough to mention. "…but I didn't want to say anything…"

"And those…" He said, still averting my gaze. "Some… have stories associated with them… memories…" He looked at me. "Others' contexts, I cannot recall."

* * *

**Erik**

She met my gaze and held it as she always did. Usually her gaze simply held me where I was; on edge, ill at ease in the most delicious way… But tonight I saw in her eyes something that I did not wish to see… something that I was not at all ready to accept; pity. I felt tears beginning to cloud my vision and looked away before one could betray me and fall down my cheek. I hated this. I hated it all. I was helpless, physically useless and weakened and now she served to weaken my psychological state as well. I hated having to rely on someone else, even if that someone was Christine. Hot tears stung my eyes, not from the pain… no, but because of her… because of her kindness. She looked down on my scars and pitied me… the look in her eyes near broke me and I decided then that I could suffer it no longer.

"What is it?" She asked. Apparently I had done a terrible job of hiding my emotion from her. How was it that she could read me so well? "What is wrong? Is it the pain?"

She was foolish if she thought that pain would ever drive me to tears again.

To my utter dismay a single tear slid down my cheek. I swiftly wiped it away but it was too late; she had already seen it.

"Erik… What is it?"

Attempting to make my voice sound as levelled as I could, I spoke.

"I should be looking after _you, _Christine."

"Is that all!?" She smiled.

"All?" I repeated. "Do not… simply trivialise me as such! 'What is _wrong?' _You ask? Where do I begin!? Do not think that I do not appreciate all you have done for me. You have saved my life. No one else would bother with such a feat… And that's partly it. Y-you looked down at me with… such pity just now that I… this is… it is demeaning!" Carelessly I attempted to sit forward. I hissed at the pain. Christine made to move forward put I held my hand out. "I… I hate lying here." I continued. "P-putting all of this weight on you; this responsibility. No one should have to be put through that, especially for someone like me!" Worse still, I could not move. I simply had to lie where I was and endure her pity. Christine took a deep breath before speaking.

"Erik, I will do what I have to in order to save your life, and I know that you would do the same…"

"Of course I would!"

"Well right now… you have to lie here. You just have to lie here and rely on me and that is all there is to it. If that means that your pride will have to suffer, so be it!"

"But I…"

"There will come a time when I will need you in such a way…"

"I s-should hope not! I would be nothing if… anything were to happen to you!"

"And when it does, you will do the same thing; whatever it takes to ensure my safety. And as for the so called pity…"

I was speechless. Never had she been so forthright with me. Perhaps this ordeal had matured her in a way I had not anticipated.

"Of course I feel pity for you! I challenge you not to pity me upon hearing of a time when I was hurt or upset. It is a natural emotion, Erik. And whether you can endure it or not, it is a part of what we have; pity comes with love. What am I _supposed_ to feel upon seeing these scars? Thinking of a time when someone hurt you? It makes me ill and I would rather _not _think on it but whatever else, you cannot avoid it, you cannot hide it! You can only move on and… _feel" _She looked at me. "You have to allow yourself to _feel, _Erik. Or it will consume you…"

I looked into her eyes. I knew that she was right. I could not argue further. It was wrong of me to feel anger towards her when she was simply being herself; simply being human. And part of me _knew_ that I was overreacting. The pain and exhaustion had made me irritable.

She placed her hand on my chest and gently traced one my scars once more.

"I _hate_ to think about someone hurting you…" She said softly. "I want to hurt _them."_

I smiled and placed my hand over hers. I was sure that she would find it condescending but I could not help but find her adorable at that moment. It was truly amusing to see so much anger in someone so small; so fragile. She frowned.

"I mean it!" She said indignantly.

"I know." I replied, still smiling. "W-when… did you grow up, Christine Daae?"

She gave me a bashful smile and her gaze returned to my wound. After cleaning away the excess blood she assisted me in removing my jacket, waistcoat and shirt and wrapped a bandage around my torso. Now all we had to do was wait and hope that infection would not become a problem.

"How do you feel now?" She asked, taking my hand in her own. "I've no idea how much blood you lost but… you certainly seem more coherent."

"I will be alright. I just need rest, now."

"Yes." She began rummaging around in the box beside her. "Is there anything in here for the pain?"

"No." I said plainly. "I will manage though."

_I didn't have a choice._

"Oh!" She cried, hey eyes; wide. "Your leg! I had forgotten!"

_So had I._

"Had we better not apply some of that…"

"The acid…" I sighed. "Yes. I suppose so."

She treated my leg in much the same way before wrapping it, removing my shoes and throwing a fresh blanket over me before sitting down beside me, looking quite pleased with herself. I suffered the indignity of it all without a word; I did not wish to upset her and what she had told me earlier rang true. In spite of the fact that such treatment was foreign to me and in spite of the fact that every fibre of me wished to reject it… I found that I quite enjoyed it.

"Alright." She said, taking my hand in her own once more. "Do you need anything else? Food? Water? Perhaps you are thirsty. You should probably stay hydrated." Before I could answer she had left and returned with a glass of water. I hardly had a chance to protest before it was thrust into my hand. In truth, I _did _enjoy her fussing… and I was far too tired to protest further.

"Thank you, Christine." I said as I handed her the glass.

"I was so worried." She said solemnly. "I still _am." _

"I daresay that under your care, there is not much to worry _about."_

She smiled bashfully once more.

"Alright…" She began. She ran her hand over my chest affectionately; her fingers setting my skin ablaze as they always did. I could not help but smile at the sensation. "You should sleep." She added. I wanted to pull her toward me, I wanted to hold her… I wanted to _have _her but injuries would not allow. Neither would propriety.

"Yes…" Was all I could say. "And you?"

"I am going to find something to eat in that kitchen of yours. You may not wish to eat, but I certainly do."

"I wish that I could prepare something for you…"

"Hush!" She teased, placing a small finger on my lips. "When you are well you can prepare me something glorious." I closed my eyes. Her hand gently moved from my mouth to the side of my face and my mask… I allowed her to remove it, _and _my wig, smiling into her touch as she cupped my face in her hand. "But for now… rest." She removed her hand and my eyes shot open, my body instantly aware of the lack of warmth present. "I will join you after I eat." She said, the corner of her mouth upturned in a small smirk.

This woman's power over me would only continue to grow…

She left the room and drew the curtains surrounding the bed, just as I had done for her. With a small smile I closed my eyes and to my surprise and in spite of the pain I was in, I fell asleep. But who knew what I would face upon waking? I knew that infection was a very real possibility and I knew that a wound such as this would take a long time to heal… I also knew that Raoul would be searching for me and eventually…

Eventually…

He _would _find me.

Whatever pain I was in, whatever I was going through it did not matter, because I was with _her… _Christine… Being with her truly felt like something out of a dream.

But sooner or later this dream I was living would have to come to an end.

They always did.

* * *

**Let me know what you think!**


	23. Chapter 23

Hi friends! Soooo sorry for the lapse in activity on here but rest assured, I'm back! Hopefully I will be updating my other story 'Time is Short' soon too but im definitely on a roll with this one! Things will be a bit slower now due to uni but nothing like the lapse just now :/

Thanks so much for the support after all this time!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.

* * *

**Christine**

Erik didn't have much food but I was sated with what little I was able to find in his kitchen. The nuts and fruit filled me enough and I was reluctant to leave Erik alone, even for a few moments. Taking some with me in case he hungered when he woke, I hurried back to him.

When I returned I could see that my worry was unfounded, at least for now. He was lying exactly where I had left him except he was undoubtedly asleep. His head had fallen to his side, his mouth was parted ever so slightly in a way that told me he was at long last able to rest. I had never seen him so peaceful, certainly not while he was awake and whatever pain he was in, thankfully now he was not able to feel. One hand lay atop his chest, which was rising and falling steadily; this was comforting. The other lay beside him, unmoving. With a smile I approached him, placing the food down on his nightstand before lying down, pulling the blanket up to his chest and snuggling up beside him.

But I did not close my eyes. I stared down at the bandages wrapped around him and was all of a sudden overcome with a mixture of pride and exhaustion. I did not know how I had achieved such a feat but Erik was alive. He was very much alive, breathing beside me. His heart was beating and while I would always blame myself for what had happened, I had saved his life. I did not know that I could be capable of such a thing. There were many moments when I wanted to give up but I knew that if I did it would surely have meant the end of Erik.

Even so, even after this small triumph I knew that it was not yet over. Raoul would undoubtedly be searching for me… for _us _at this very moment and while Erik had told me that his home could not be found, I could not help but worry. What if we _were _found? Erik was in no fit state to defend himself and he most certainly was not in any state to protect me… What if he was taken from me...?

_One step at a time…_

Allowing myself to be overcome with worry at this stage would not aide me and it would do nothing to speed up the process of Erik's recovery. I looked up at Erik and smiled. If he could find the serenity he needed to rest in this situation then surely I could manage the same. I knew that he would be anything but serene upon waking and I knew that there would be numerous problems facing us both when we awoke but for now, I would sleep. I would rest with my fiancé and when I awoke I would try and figure out what to do next… Gently wrapping my arm around him I closed my eyes. Sleepily, perhaps subconsciously he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. Anxiety plagued my thoughts such that I would normally have been wide awake, but in Erik's arms it did not take long for me to join him in his peaceful slumber.

* * *

**Raoul**

"He was just _here!" _I cried, pointing to the spot where I had left him… where I had left _them. _I was outraged. How could have they escaped? I thought his death to be certain, even _with_ the meagre assistance Christine would surely have offered.

"Monsieur, there is much blood here. I can see that. It is clear that something has indeed occurred here; no one here doubts your integrity in this… but what would you have us do? We have followed the carriage tracks as far as we possibly could but it has been heavily snowing…"

I marched up to the inspector. Every fibre of my being was goading me to take hold of his collar and shake some sense into him but I knew that if I lost control at this moment, Christine would be lost… lost to _him, _lost to me.

"I can _tell _you where he is!" I forced through gritted teeth. "I can tell you where they went! You do not need carriage tracks! You do not need any evidence more than what you have already seen! What I have already told you!"

"We have been to the Opera, Vicomte." The inspector replied calmly. "We have searched the dressing room as per your instructions, we have inspected your… _mirror_ from which you say you saw a man emerge but… we found nothing. You saw this with your very eyes." I took a step back for fear of my rage taking hold and ran a frustrated hand through my hair. The Inspector looked down and continued. "Now, I am choosing to overlook this… blood Vicomte. Because of who you are I will look past this. I will not ask questions…"

"But I am telling you that it is _his _blood! _Ask _questions! Please do! It is your job after all, is it not?!" I spat.

"Monsieur…" He warned. "You are out of line." I shot him a contemptuous glare before turning on my heel and pacing away from him. I knew that I was out of line and if Christine were not at stake I would hardly have a care. But I could not afford to make enemies of the authorities.

Not now.

When the time came I would have need of them but I knew as I strode out of that cemetery that until that time came I would have to take care of this myself… Whatever the cost…

* * *

**Erik**

Delirium. Faces from my past blurring in and out of my vision. I knew that they were not really there… Deep down I _knew_ that, but they were so very real…

My mother's face… I was in my childhood home…

I stepped outside to find myself surrounded by bars… a cage… _my _cage. With an anguished cry I turned to leave but found that there was no door? When I turned back around I was faced with a mirror, just like those in my home. I approached it to see myself as I am now; a grown man… but the cage was so small… and suddenly I couldn't stand up…

It was shrinking, shrinking… the bars were coming down on my shoulders, my ribs, my legs… I couldn't breathe. I closed my eyes and cried out for it to end…

I opened them to a sea of faces… but they were smiling… and they were applauding… I stood up to full height and looked around to see that I was no longer in a cage but on a stage… _my _stage and beside me was a piano. There were so many people and I wanted to run, I wanted to hide but… they were applauding me, _me! _I allowed myself the hint of a smile but before too long this world too had begun to spiral away from me…

I heard a guttural yell to my left and when I turned around my heart stopped in my chest at what I saw; a large, bearded man with a bullwhip in hand. It was he… the man who had forced me to call him 'master', the man who had tortured and tormented me endlessly for the entertainment of the masses. He was a regular feature in my dreams but he seemed so _real, _so _tactile, _so _tangible. _And he was approaching. I began to back away only to find that there was nowhere to go; I was met with a wall. The texture beneath my hands felt cool, smooth… familiar. I turned around only to see that behind me lay the damask wallpaper of Christine's dressing room… My _master _approached, his hand raised, his eyes red… the rest; a silhouette…

_No. No. No…_

I closed my eyes once more an raised my arms before me…

"Erik…"

_What… _

"Erik…"

I opened my eyes to see Christine holding the whip above me.

"Christine…" I tried to speak but my speech was soundless.

"Erik…" The voice spoke again. Again I looked at the figure before me just in time to see the whip coming toward me in what seemed like quarter speed…

"ERIK!"

My eyes shot open. I knew that I was wracked with fever; even in my state I knew it. Even throughout my delirious sleep, a part of me knew that I was not quite awake. I had experienced it many times in the past and each and every time I had come through it on my own… somehow... My eyes fell shut again and I was met with the same sight, as if I had not quite escaped… not yet.

"ERIK_! Wake up!"_ I could feel perspiration pricking at my eyes as I opened them; they were heavy with exhaustion. My whole body was. I lifted my hand and ran it over my chest to find that I was heavily perspiring all over. My entire body ached and my wound was on fire. I turned my head to the side, my vision blurred.

"Erik!" My gaze shifted to the woman before me… Christine… that face I had seen in my dream. Immediately I jumped and pushed her away with my hands.

"Erik, what are you doing?" She cried, returning to my side. "It's me! You were dreaming…"

"Ch…Christine…" I mumbled. "I d-don't know… what's real…"

"_I _am real, my love! Please… you have a terrible fever!"

"I… I d-dreamed that… you were… He was there and…"

"I know that it was terrible." I felt her embrace me. "I was trying to wake you for some time."

"I… I f-feel so sick, Christine." The room was spinning and soon nausea would add to my list of my ailments.

"_I know!"_ She cried. I tried to focus on her face but I could not. "I… I will have to clean the wound… will I not?"

"Yes…" I mumbled into her hand that was now resting upon my forehead.

"I will have to do it now." She said dutifully. I knew by the sudden lack of warmth beside me that she had stood up.

"Don't…" I pleaded. "Please… stay with me." I knew that if she were not there I would be at risk of falling back into my nightmare. And truthfully, I worried for my life. I had rarely suffered a fever as severe as this. At all costs, I did not want to be alone.

"I have to leave, Erik! I will be back momentarily, I promise."

"Christine…" I muttered. I felt her approach me and place a kiss upon my fevered forehead.

"I will not leave you." She said. And then it was cold once more.

* * *

**Christine**

I had to break his fever. I could not lose him. It seemed that every moment of our time together was fraught with worry or incident. I knew nothing of what I was doing; I had never cared for anyone like this before and the thought of Erik's entire fate resting in my hands made me sick to the stomach. Nevertheless I would do everything in my power to see him to health. After all, if it weren't for me he would not have come to harm. It broke my heart to see him in this state. Seeing him in physical pain was difficult enough, but seeing his emotional duress was more than I could bear. I could do nothing to reach him in his tortured state; nothing to help him and it tore me up inside. I had known bits and pieces of his past; vague details he would allow and specific ones he would at times let slip. I knew that his past had been filled with terrors that I could scarcely imagine but up until tonight I had not fully considered just how bad it could have been.

I hurried to his kitchen and filled up a pot of water before fetching a shirt from his wardrobe to use as a cloth. Healthy Erik would not be happy about this at all, but healthy Erik did not have to know.

When I returned to his side he had fallen back into his fever-induced delirium. He was tossing and turning but thankfully his state was nowhere near as alarming as it had been prior. I shook him awake. He opened his pained eyes and his gaze fell upon mine. I don't think that he was able to focus properly but he knew that it was _me_… that was all that mattered.

"I have to bring your fever down, alright?" I looked into his eyes for some sense of understanding but found little. "I will also need to open your wound and clean it…"

"Yes…" He muttered. But I knew not what he was agreeing to. It could have been anything.

I dipped his shirt in the water I had brought before wringing it out and placing it against his chest. Immediately he jumped away from me.

"W-What are you doing?"

"I told you that I had to…"

"That is f-freezing…" He complained. "I am freezing…"

"I know you feel cold but you are not! Your temperature is high!" I moved the cloth toward him again but he pushed my hand away.

"Erik!" I began, frustrated. "This needs to be done. So just sit still and allow me to do it!" I held his arm down with one hand and pushed the wet cloth over his skin with the other. He squirmed and muttered something incoherent but did not resist any further. I ran it down his arms, across his chest and forehead, all the while looking down at the bandage around his stomach; the real problem. Once I had finished with the cloth I cut away his bandages. My eyes were met with his wound once more, now slightly swollen and reddened around the edges. It was infected. Now I knew. Thankfully it was not as bad as It could have been… I did not wish to think on what it would have looked like after just a few more hours; how _he _would have been.

"Are you alright?" I asked, taking his hand and holding it tightly.

He did not open his eyes but a slight nod was reassurance enough for me to know that he was conscious.

"Erik." I began, taking his face in my hands. "I have to remove the stitches, and disinfect your wound again…" He gazed at me drowsily. I knew that he could not focus; I knew that until his temperature had dropped he would not be coherent. I knew that the room and everything in it was probably spinning for him and I knew that if I were in his position I would not possess the strength to bring myself through it… I knew all this but I needed him to know what was going to happen. I needed his permission. He deserved that much. "Erik… do you understand what I am telling… what I am asking? It will be painful. But I must do it." I shook him gently. "Erik, please… do you…"

"I know, Christine…" He said weakly. "Please do it." I smiled at the sound of his voice. It was pained but he was with me. I was not alone and suddenly I possessed the strength needed to begin a second time.

Erik did not flinch as I cut the stitches I had made mere hours before and he hardly moved as I stitched him up again but upon sterilizing his wound with the carbolic acid he cried out and I near lost my resolve. Soon, his eyes had closed again and his breathing was steady. He was neither sweating, nor shivering and upon seeing his restful face before me I was finally able to exhale. I would not sleep. Not again. I could not take the risk a second time. For fear of succumbing to the call of fatigue I did not lie down; I sat at his bedside and kept watch over him as he had done for me all these years. I took note of his every movement, every breath. I had never watched him sleep before and I could not help but giggle to myself upon hearing him snore. I moved closer to him and stroked his face gently.

"I love you, Erik." I whispered.

_Please, father. Please watch over him tonight. I cannot lose him. I cannot lose you both._

* * *

**Erik**

When I awoke my wound was aching, but I felt _myself _again. The world was not spinning and my temperature felt slightly high but for the most part, normal. I knew that Christine had nursed me back to health. Perhaps she was not aware but I was conscious of every second. I owed her my life in more ways than one. I turned to my left to see her by my bed, sitting in a chair, collapsed face down in my sheets. I smiled to myself; even in my state I was able to see humour in the sight before me. But soon I was overcome with nothing but guilt. She was exhausted because of me. I would never wish to inconvenience her in such a way. If fate was kind I would be well enough soon to look after myself, dress my own wounds… both figuratively and actually.

"Christine…" I whispered. Apparently a light sleeper she slowly looked up. "Good morning." I added weakly.

"Erik…" She smiled and moved closer to me. Running her hand over my chest she pulled me into a gentle embrace. "I was so worried." She whispered, her grip tightening. I began to feel a warm sensation on my bare shoulder and it took only moments for me to realise what it must be.

"Christine…" I soothed. "Please do not cry."

"I was so worried for you." She mumbled, her head never leaving my shoulder. In all honesty it felt delightful.

"I know." I said, bringing my right arm around to touch her face. I grimaced at the pain it caused but I _had _to touch her. "But I am alive because of you…"

"I could not live without you…" She replied.

"And I, you."

She finally looked up at me and smiled. I wiped a tear from her eye with my thumb.

"Christine, would you grant me a favour?"

"Anything." She replied hastily.

"Would you lean in closer?" I began with a sly smile. "It seems I have the overwhelming desire to kiss you, but I cannot achieve it on my own." Christine returned the smile before shifting her weight from me to the bed and leaning toward me. Our lips met in a single tender kiss before she pulled away. I wanted more and I could sense that she did too… but she was worried for me and I wouldn't pressure her. She had been through enough.

"How are you feeling now?" She asked, touching my forehead gently. "You feel slightly warm."

"Fine except for the pain." I replied, smiling at her affectionately. "Much better…" I looked down at the bandages around my torso. "Why couldn't he have shot me instead? It would have been far less troublesome. I have a very high pain threshold but blade wounds push the boundaries of what even _I_ can endure."

"I wish I could do something…"

"You are already doing it, Christine. You have done so much!"

"But I wish that I could do _more! _I hate seeing you like this."

"I know. I know how hard it is. I hate that I am putting you through this but… you cannot know what it means to me… what you have done. I am very much aware of all that you have done for me these past hours, Christine and my heart swells with happiness when I think of… being… _loved _this much."

Christine looked down.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Something troubles me."

"Raoul?" I asked. She looked up at me, apparently beguiled by the thought of me knowing her so well. She nodded solemnly. I smirked slightly before addressing her concern. "You are worried about repercussions…? Or… something else?"

"Oh… you mean? No, nothing else…? Repercussions, of course. Now he will be more determined than ever to find us… to find _you." _

"Christine." I began. "How many times have I told you, Môn Ange? He will not find me here. He cannot. Not unless Madame Giry tells him… besides you she is the only one who knows of the whereabouts of my home and I trust her with my life, as I trust _you_." I stroked her face gently.

She smiled sweetly.

"I just worry." She said.

"I know."

"I worry that you will be taken from me. I worry that what we have cannot possibly be real and that one day it will simply be gone."

"My worries are the same." I said quietly. "But Christine, believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm; to make you happy, to keep you from worrying. And if as you say you worry about _me _then I will do everything in my power to keep myself from harm also." I could not help but chuckle slightly at my own words.

"Don't make fun of me." She smiled, also slightly amused.

"I wasn't, I promise." I laughed.

"Well, maybe I believe you. Anyway, wait here while I fetch some fresh water. I need to make sure your skin stays cool."

She returned with a pot of water and sat down beside me. I jumped as the cloth she was holding touched my skin.

"Are you sure this is necessary?" I asked, shivering as she ran the cloth down my arms.

"Do you wish for your fever to return?"

"No, of course not but I… _Ahh!"_ I jumped as the freezing cloth touched my side. "_Alright!" _I cried, the pitch of my voice slightly higher than I would have liked. "Enough now, surely."

"Not yet." She said, the corner of her mouth upturned in a smirk. Again, the cloth came in contact with my side and I pushed her hand away.

"_Not there! It is freezing! Are you trying to kill me?!" _I looked down to see that she was actually giggling now. "Oh…" I began. "So it was intentional?"

"Perhaps." She laughed playfully. "Perhaps it is what you deserve for making fun of me."

"You… you evil woman." I teased, my mouth was agape; I was utterly beguiled by what I was seeing, a side to Christine I had not known existed.

Laughing, she pushed the cloth to my side once more, and seemingly delighted by my reaction she laughed harder when I pushed her away.

"_Alright! Alright, enough!"_ I laughed, holding my bandage as I did so. "I apologise."

"You're silly." She shot playfully before dropping the rag and leaning in for another kiss. She pulled away.

"Erik." She began. "I have another concern… When you were fevered you… you were…"

"You wish to know about my dreams…" I began, slightly abruptly. "In time, Christine. It isn't that I do not wish for you to know… well it _is partly _that. But… it is more… saying it aloud that is difficult. I know that you _wish _to talk about your past; your father… because that way you feel connected to him."

"Yes…" She nodded slowly.

"For me, it is the opposite. I wish to disassociate myself from my past. As much as I possibly can."

Christine looked down sadly.

"I know that you have been through a lot. From what little you have told me, I know that."

"Yes." I said, my tone short.

"I am sorry." She said softly.

I looked at her. She had saved my life… and yet I had upset her. How was it that I kept doing just that when I had promised to love her and nothing and never to hurt her above all else?

"Christine…" She looked up, her expression hopeful. "I don't recall my fevered dreams but… really… if you wish for me to tell you of my past, I will oblige. I keep saying that I would do anything for you, Christine, but when you ask something of me I cannot deliver. Well… that isn't fair and you deserve more. I will tell you."

"Erik, you don't have to do that if you…"

I held up my hand in protest.

"You wish it, Christine. As much as you deny the need out of propriety, I know that you wish to know of my past. And that is only fair. I know much more of your past than you of mine."

"I do wish to know." She replied bashfully. "If only to know as much as I possibly can about you. I wish to know. Thank you, Erik. I know how much it is for you to offer this."

"If it makes you happy, it is nothing at all." I smiled.

"Alright. But do you possess the strength now? After what you have been through?"

I thought for a moment. No. I did not. I knew how draining delving into my past would prove to be, perhaps even for both of us.

"No, I suppose not. Lie down beside me. Rest. When you wake, when I possess the strength I will tell you what you wish to know. Then, we will plan where to go from here." I took one of her hands in my own. "With everything…" I added.

Christine nodded before squeezing my hand affectionately.

"Do you have need of anything else before we rest? I must admit, I am… quite famished."

"Yes. That is something else we will need to figure out. I am sorry, Christine. You deserve so much; everything. You deserve your favourite foods for every meal… And in weather like this you must have need of a hot meal." I looked at her. I knew that she would never complain about such a thing; it was not in her nature. That was part of what I loved about her… but even so, she deserved everything and I hated that I could not give it to her. "…For now there is fruit in the kitchen, it should only be a few days old. I am loath to admit that I am beginning to hunger also."

With that, Christine shot up and started toward the kitchen.

"Wait…" I began. She spun around. "Could I possibly trouble you for a glass of water also?"

"Of course, Monsieur Phantom." She teased with a smile.

I returned her smile awkwardly. It had been months since I had heard that name and although I knew that she used it only in jest, it still made me uncomfortable. I was doing all that I could to leave that name; that title behind… for her. She was beginning to grow increasingly comfortable around me, such that she saw fit to tease me as such and I encouraged such behaviour. I wanted that. I wanted us to grow as close as we possibly could. But perhaps it was all too soon… I was _still _very much The Phantom and I could do little about that until this Opera house was far behind us.

We ate and lay down next to one another once more… but once I was face to face with a sleeping Christine I could see that I would find no rest. She lay curled up against my chest and I could do little else but watch her as she drifted off to sleep. She was so beautiful and in spite of my pain I had never felt more at peace than I did with my arms wrapped around her.

* * *

**Raoul**

Upon returning to the Opera I was fuming; overcome with anger and frustration at the utter indifference with which the law was treating the situation. I was determined to right the situation. I was determined to put an end to Christine and _his _relationship… whatever it was; partly upon principle alone and partly because I loathed that _Erik _with every fibre of my being.

There had to be some way to find him. I knew that they were together and I knew that he was wounded. Whether or not he was alive was another question. I would have to do my own detective work. So be it.

I strode up the steps of the grand escalier. I would start with the person who had been with the company the longest… Madame Giry.

* * *

**Sorry for the lapse in updates! I've had a bunch of things going on and I suppose a touch of writers block. But I'm back! :) Please let me know what you think about where things are going! I want to know whether I still have it after all this time hahah.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hi friends! Thank you for the reviews, there were so many! It is so great to know that I was missed in my absence and that you guys are still reading and enjoying this! Here is the next chap. Please let me know what you think as you always do. It has been really helpful and has actually inspired me to get cracking again on both of my stories!**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

**Christine**

I _must_ have been exhausted for I awoke in the same position in which I had fallen asleep; curled up against Erik, snuggled against his chest with my arm around his waist. I smiled to myself as I opened my eyes and looked up at him. In spite of my movement he did not wake. I brought my hand up to touch his face; my fingers ghosted over his chin, from rough texture of his unshaven jaw to the smooth surface that marked the beginning of his deformity. There, I allowed my fingers to travel upward, caressing the unusual skin that covered the right side of his face. Knowing that he wouldn't want me studying it for too long I gently traced his bottom lip that still hung open ever so slightly in a way that suggested an innocent serenity; one that Erik would only _ever_ find in sleep. I placed a kiss upon his parted lips and snuggled back into the warmth his skin provided me. The kiss must have awoken him for I felt him stirring.

"Christine?" He mumbled sleepily.

"Good morning." I said with a smile, placing a kiss on his chest. I looked up. "How are you feeling?"

"M-much better." He said with a yawn. He placed a kiss upon my forehead. "Thank you for last night, Christine. And everything else."

"Don't thank me yet." I said, pulling away. "I need to change your bandages." I began to get up but before I could Erik had pulled me back down beside him.

"You aren't going anywhere." He purred with a smile.

"Erik!" I laughed. "As much as I want to stay here…" He began to kiss me and I found it harder to speak as the seconds wore on. "We need to…" The kiss deepened. "Erik… we need to… ok, stop, stop." I pushed him away gently.

"You don't want to?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Of course I do! But we need to talk about what we are doing; where we go from here! I cannot rest until… until I have a plan of some kind!"

He sighed and scratched his chest absentmindedly.

"I simply find it hard to resist you and it feels like it has been far too long since we have been intimate with one another."

"I know." I smiled. "But with each passing hour the risk grows…"

"I… know that. Or at least, I _would _have known that… before…" He looked up at me. "I cannot think straight when I'm around you."

I smiled and kissed him before standing up.

"Just wait here, after I change your bandage we will decide what to do."

He nodded and rolled over onto his back with a grimace. He was in pain. Of course he was, but it was an utter relief to see that we had potentially beaten the fever. That fever had terrified me.

When I returned he was attempting to sit up.

"What are you doing!?" I asked rushing toward him.

"Christine, please. Before you chastise me, I have been lying down for more than twenty-four hours. It is highly unusual for me to lie down for more than _five_ hours at a time. I need to move. I have strength enough, I promise. Will you help me to stand up?"

"Erik, you have been stabbed! I know that you want to prove something to yourself and to me, but can it please wait? At least for another day?"

He sighed and looked at me. I could tell that he was irritated and that he was trying his best not to let his usual temper get the better of him, _and_ to prevent me from seeing it.

"I will help you to _sit_, alright?"

He nodded. Standing before him I pulled him upward. I didn't need to do much though. He was determined to do most of it on his own in spite of the pain it caused him.

"I know that you are angry." I said with the ghost of a smirk. I sat down in front of him. Again he nodded.

"Not at you, though." He said. I placed a hand on his knee.

"I know that you are used to doing things on your own, but apart from your obvious need of assistance, I _want _to help you and it offends me when you dismiss it."

"I know." He said with a sigh, clearly still frustrated. I moved closer to him and leant my forehead against his.

"I'm glad you're well enough to be your usual self." I said.

"And what does _that_ mean?"

"Nothing at all." I mused, pulling away and reaching toward his bandages. His wound looked much better but I knew that I needed to keep it clean, and along with food he had run out of bandages.

"I had hoped that this could have waited but it cannot."

"What?" He asked, attempting to look at his wound.

"I must go above ground."

"_What?_ You cannot, Christine! It is too dangerous without me and according to you, I am not fit to walk."

"There is no food here and you need to eat!"

"I am _not_ hungry."

I gave him a stern look before continuing.

"Well we have just run out of bandages…and… anyway, for the sake of argument do _you _think that you are fit to walk?"

"Well… I… No… but…"

"No, you are not. So trust me when I tell you to stay in bed."

"I am in bed, am I not?"

"Arrghh, I mean before… when you wanted to stand… you…" I stood up and ran my hand through my hair in exasperation. "_You are infuriating!"_ Erik took my hand and pulled me back toward him.

"But you_ love_ me." He said with a smirk.

"No I don't!" I teased.

"Yes, you do." He smiled, pulling me closer until I was almost on his lap. "I know you do. You love me _so _much." He teased.

"Is that so?" I laughed.

"Yes." He said with a smug grin. Forgetting myself, I attempted to climb onto his lap, only seeing my folly and recalling his injury upon hearing him yell.

"_I am so sorry!" _I soothed. "_Was it me? I am so sorry, Erik. How could I have forgotten_?"

"No, no…" He managed, holding his stomach and grimacing. "I must have strained it. It was not you, Môn Ange."

"You have to be _careful!" _I cried, suddenly overwhelmed. What had come over me? Perhaps it was the exhaustion, perhaps not. Either way as I sat beside him and was surprised to find that I could not prevent my tears. I hid my face in my hands.

"Oh… Christine… please do not be upset! What is it?" He wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"I am not upset." I said indignantly, my words muffled by my hands.

"You are, my love." He said with a slight chuckle. "That much is clear."

"No, I am not… and don't laugh at me."

Erik pulled me toward him and placed a kiss atop my head.

"I am sorry… Christine… what is wrong? Please tell me. Is it something I have done? I cannot bear to see you upset."

Finally I removed my hands, wiping my eyes haphazardly in an attempt to hide my tears.

"I almost _lost _you!"

Erik stared at me for a moment.

"Christine…" He said, his voice heavy with emotion. Why was _he _upset? "Is that why you weep? Out of worry for me?"

I nodded.

"Even now, I cannot comprehend my fortune…" He said quietly. "Never would I have imagined that someone would weep at the thought of _losing _me… perhaps _because _of me…" He smiled.

"_Erik!"_ I scolded, still wiping my tears. Now was not the time for his self deprecating humour.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He took a deep breath. "Come here, my love." He pulled me closer. "I _will _be careful, alright? I promise. Please do not cry. I am still not accustomed to all of this. I regret that I don't know how to comfort you."

I laughed slightly.

"You are doing well." I said, looking up. He smiled.

"That is good." He said, giving me a reassuring squeeze before releasing me. "Now, about you going above ground…"

"Yes." I began, wiping my eyes again. "I will go to Madame Giry. I cannot think of anyone else that I would trust enough…"

"Yes, of course." He nodded in agreement. "I know that you must go, but I worry for you. How can you be sure that you will not be followed upon your return?"

"I… _don't_ know. And I know that people _will_ be searching for me. It has been two days…"

He shrugged before looking down.

"I suppose you will just have to be cautious." He said.

"What if I see Raoul?"

Erik's gaze never left the ground; he appeared to be searching himself for the best answer.

"…He will know that you are with me. That is a fact." He looked up. "Honestly, the only course of action I can think of is for you to stay away from him."

"But what if I cannot?"

"Christine." Erik began. He looked up. "With so much at stake I cannot think what he would do, what he _could _do…"

"I _know!_ But I may not be able to avoid him! I… I still don't think that he would hurt me, though." I said innocently.

"No. I don't think that either. But he _would _take you away from me…"

"And… he _would_ hurt _you." _I replied.

Erik nodded.

"Do you honestly believe that he would steal me away now? With… rehearsals for the show… could he get away with it?"

"I wouldn't have believed him capable of something like that before but… he has grown desperate. And I'm not sure _what _he is capable of… given his status." Erik sighed in frustration. "I wish that I could accompany you, or go in your stead! I _should _be able to do that for you… it's just _now… _with _this!" _He gestured to his wound.

"I know, I know! Its is alright!" I soothed.

"But I cannot. I cannot wait."

"I know." He sighed once more. "_I know..."_

He looked out onto the lake, something he must have done numerous times over the years when deep in thought. Perhaps deep in thought over _me. _I touched his face affectionately, smoothing his hair back behind his ear. Without meeting my gaze he smiled awkwardly. I would never tire of touching him, being _with _him. I had often wondered what love was like… and now I knew that it was glorious as they had all made it out to be; those writers, storytellers, playwrights and poets… they had all experienced it, and now I had too. After a few moments of staring at him something else came to mind, something that was perhaps more pressing.

"I wish that you could wait… just a week. Then I might be strong enough to climb those stairs and…"

"Erik…" I began. "You spoke of leaving this place…"

"Yes." He replied absentmindedly.

"What has become of that plan now?"

"What do you mean?" He asked quizzically. "The plan is still in place." He turned to me. "Do you not wish to…"

"No, I do. I only meant with your… current state… how long would it be before we can travel?"

"Well… a few weeks ideally." He began, fiddling with the blanket beneath him. "But with things as they are I don't think that we can afford to wait that long. If things get desperate I… could be ready in a week."

"What of your Opera?"

"Christine…" he sighed. "That Opera _is _important to me, and it _was_ written with you in mind. The leading part was written for _you _to perform but…" He shrugged slightly; finishing the sentence with gesture in place of words and assuming that I understood. I did.

"I understand." I said. "When is opening night? How long have you given them… given _us _to prepare?"

Erik smirked and then with the slight inclination of his head, he spoke.

"A few weeks."

"I see."

"Christine, if you wish to stay and perform, I will understand. I would never wish to take something like that away from you. But… I simply cannot see anyway in which you would attend rehearsals that would _not _put you in danger. I feel as though le Vicomte would take any chance he could get to take you away from me… take you for his own. So… we must make a decision now…"

"As to whether or not we leave?"

"Yes. I have been thinking on it and what I am proposing is this; you travel above ground now, meet with Madame Giry and tell her of… _our _intentions. You gather the required supplies and return below ground. You may need to return again if supplies dwindle but I hope to be strong enough to do it for you when the time arises. Then in a week… _or_ when the opportunity arises, we leave."

I nodded.

"Or… you attend rehearsals as planned and stay for opening night. It is a risk, but if you choose it, I am willing to support you…"

"No, Erik. I choose the first option."

He raised his hand in protestation.

"Hear me out, my dear."

I remained silent.

"Now, because of the risk involved in that option we would not see one another until it was time… Then we would meet at an agreed upon place after the performance and leave."

"But I wouldn't see you for weeks?"

"No. You would not." He rubbed his neck irritably. "I am convinced that it would be harder on me than it would be on you but it would be too dangerous… of course, the third option, which has always been open to you is this; you head above ground and stay there…"

"Erik, how many times do I have to…"

"Alright, alright. I just wanted to make sure that you knew it was an option."

"Look…" I began. "I am not leaving you! Performing is important to me but not as important as you! I know that you wrote that for me… but things have not gone to plan."

"They rarely do with me."

"Well, so be it. But I choose plan number one. I will leave right away. I will inform her of our plan, find food enough for a week and… I will say my goodbyes… then I will return to you."

Erik smiled.

"Christine, I…"

"I know." I said, placing a kiss upon his head. "I will return shortly."

* * *

**Raoul**

I knocked on the door before me. Perhaps Madame Giry would be at rehearsals, perhaps not. If she wasn't I was determined to wait for her for as long as I needed to.

To my surprise, within seconds of my knocking the door opened to reveal the woman I was seeking.

"Madame." I began cordially. "Might I come in?"

"Of… course, le Vicomte." She replied, opening the door with a casual nod of the head and allowing me inside. I looked around. The room was dark and littered with paintings, photographs, tapestries and ribbons… I could barely see the walls. This room told me that this woman had lived a full life. I wanted the same for Christine. I had never seen the inside of her quarters before… I smirked to myself. Why should I have? It was improper for such a thing to take place; a man inside a ladies dressing room. It was unheard of unless the two involved were courting…

Christine…

That monster…

My blood boiled at the thought of _any _another man inside my Christine's dressing room, much less a man like _him. _

"What can I help you with, Vicomte?" Madame Giry began, interrupting my spiralling thoughts. "I have just returned from rehearsals and would very much enjoy some well needed rest."

"I… apologise, Madame. I will make this brief." I gestured to the divan beside me. "May I?"

She nodded and I sat.

"Madame, you have been with this company longer than anyone… or so the managers tell me."

She nodded again.

"So… if _anyone _were to know of… certain goings on under this roof… it would be you?"

The woman's eyes narrowed.

"What are you asking me, Monsieur?"

I sighed. There was no point in evading what I had come for, no sense in delaying it further.

"This so called… Phantom… do you know of him?" I thought I saw her tense, but she regained composure too quickly for me to be sure.

"I know _of _him, of course. Every soul under this roof knows _of _him." Her voice told of thinly veiled sarcasm, unusual for her. "Why do you ask?"

"Madame, I am going to cut straight to my purpose in being here this afternoon."

"Please." She replied curtly.

"When was the last time you saw Christine?" I asked.

"Christine?" She repeated, her face almost expressionless. "Why… it was early this morning. She…"

"You lie…"

"I beg your pardon?"

"No one has seen Christine since the Bal Masque, and yet you tell me that she was here this morning? You lie."

"Monsieur, if you have come to dismiss my answers as such; why do you question me?"

"Because Christine sees you as a mother. I know that she trusts you and I need to know where she is!"

"That, I cannot tell you I am afraid."

"You do not know where she is or you will not tell me?"

"I will not tell you."

"Madame! Perhaps you do not understand the situation here; the dire need! So let me explain…"

The woman across from me said nothing, only stared at me with an expression that only increased my frustration and shrugged slightly; a gesture for me to speak.

"I have cause to believe that your Christine is with the Phantom."

"You _what, _Monsieur?" She scoffed. "Such a concept is ridiculous!"

"Do not toy with me." I warned.

"Monsieur, the Phantom is not a real person… he…"

"I know him to be a real person, Madame. I am not asking your opinion on the matter, I am _informing _you of the situation. And…" I stared at her. She was fiddling with the fabric of her dress, something I had seen Christine do at times when she was nervous…

"You… you already _know _all of this, don't you?" I asked; more of a statement than a question. My eyes widened in realisation as it all came together in my mind; the facts, what I had seen… "You…"

_It couldn't be, though. Could it?_

Part of me doubted my conclusion… but part of me knew that it made perfect sense. _Perfect _sense. I had to say it. I had to say it aloud… and only _then_ would it be true. Then, I would be one step closer to finding Christine.

"You… _know _him, don't you?" I asked. My words hung in the air for a few moments before she spoke; giving them strength and further convincing me that I had come to the correct conclusion.

"Monsieur…" She began. "I regret that I…"

"You know where she is." I said, my eyes wide. I stood up. "And… so… you know where _he _is."

"I know no such thing, Monsieur! I know not where she is and if there _is _a Phantom I regret that I wouldn't have a clue where he…"

I approached her.

"Madame. You _must_ tell me." I said, walking closer. I had no intention of harming the woman but I was growing desperate. I had always thought myself a scrupulous man but in truth, there was nothing I wouldn't do to find Christine.

"I… must insist that you leave." She spoke, standing.

"Tell me where he is!" I said, my voice louder. This was infuriating! I had the answer standing before me and she would tell me nothing, _give_ me nothing. I took hold of her shoulders.

"_Tell me, Madame!"_

"Monsieur, unhand me!" She spat.

A knock at the door sounded.

"Madame…" A small voice called. It was unfamiliar to me, one of the chorus girls no doubt.

"Y-yes…" Replied the woman in my grasp. I released her immediately and looked down at my hands. What had I done.

"Madame…" I whispered. "Please… I apologise… I."

"What is it, Claire?" She spoke, ignoring me and calling to the voice outside the door. Her gaze never left mine.

"Might I come in?" The girl squeaked.

"Yes, my dear. The door is unlocked."

"Madame… I…"

I heard the door open behind me.

"Madame…" Claire began in a small voice. "Is everything…"

"Come in, Claire. Monsieur le Vicomte was just leaving." She said sternly.

"I… Yes." I said. I knew that I could achieve no more where I was and in truth I was utterly ashamed of myself. The very least I could do for this woman was leave. "I am sorry." I whispered before turning on my heel and brushing past the small girl named Claire.

"Mademoiselle." I nodded my head as I passed her and closed the door behind me.

What had I done? I had handled a woman improperly, almost violently. I had had the perfect upbringing. I had been taught _never _to lay a hand on a lady, no matter what she had said or done. My father had taught me that at a young age and my brother had reinforced it. So what had come over me? Love? Had love made me do this? No… of course not. Love could not be capable of such a thing. It was hate. _He _had made me do it… that _Erik. _My hate for him had driven me to this and nothing else. I left the sleeping quarters and strode down the corridor with a renewed sense of purpose. I _would _find him, and once I had Christine this was just another thing that he would _pay _for.

* * *

**Christine**

With Erik's instruction I made my way up through the secret passage I had previously used; that which led me to the grand foyer. I knew that I couldn't emerge near the auditorium, given the time rehearsals would soon be over, there would be people everywhere, searching and asking questions and I wanted to remain as scarce as possible. As I made my way up to the sleeping quarters to wait for Madame Giry I came across Meg.

"Christine, where have you been?" She asked, running up the stairs of the grand escalier to reach me. "Have you been with _him_!? Everyone has been searching for you!"

"Meg. Where is Maman? I need to speak to her. It is urgent."

"Why wont you tell me, Christine? You tell me nothing now. I hardly even see you."

"What… why are you being like this? Listen, I need to…"

"The last time I saw you was before the Bal Masque and you hardly even spoke to me. You disappeared with _him _and that was the last I saw of you. I heard nothing from you. I didn't know where you were or what had happened!"

"Meg…"

"All that you care about now is _him!"_

_"_Meg you know nothing of what you speak. If you only knew what was happening then you would understand!"

"Then tell me!"

Madame Giry had warned me not to tell Meg too much. She always had but it had nothing to do with her integrity as a person… simply the fact that she was incapable of keeping secrets. It was just something I had learned to accept about our friendship… up until now.

"Meg…" I sighed in frustration before looking up at her. Meg was my childhood friend… but then again so was Raoul and he could no longer be trusted. Fear and jealousy had warped his mind, turned him into someone I longer recognised. In truth I saw no harm in allowing Meg vague details in the hopes of preventing _our _friendship from reaching the same fate. And I resigned myself to the fact that I would only tell her that which Raoul already knew. I took a deep breath before moving closer to her. "Alright." I acquiesced. "I have been with him."

"I knew it." She scoffed. "Why? What is happening?"

"What do you mean 'what is happening?'"

"Something has to be! The place is in a flux! It has been since the Bal! The Vicomte has been accosting everyone, pulling them aside and questioning them as if he were a policeman!"

"…About what, Meg?"

But I already knew the answer to that question.

"About your Opera Ghost, of course!"

I sighed. I could see now that I would have to tell her more than I had already planned on.

"Has he approached _you_?"

"Not yet." She said.

"Well, listen. What I am about to tell you, you cannot divulge to anyone! Anyone at all besides Maman!"

"Yes, alright. Alright."

"On New Years day I went to visit my father… and… Erik accompanied me."

Meg nodded.

"Raoul found us there and… there was a disagreement."

"A disagreement?"

"Yes. Raoul was trying to take me away and… I did not want it! So… Erik challenged him… Oh, it was awful to watch, Meg."

"What happened, Christine?"

"Erik is injured. The worst is behind him, I believe… But… he is far from well. I have come up to see your mother but I must return to him right away."

"But you cannot simply disappear, Christine. The managers want to begin rehearsals for… _his _Opera. And if you _do _care about him then you should stay above ground! Going missing will only make things worse for him."

"But how can I? He has no one else!"

"Yes, I know but the last time anyone saw you, you had disappeared after his sighting… It looks suspicious, Christine! And… besides, would he want you to sacrifice your career; the one you say that he built for you? He would want you to stay here!"

"How can you say that? How can you know what he would want when you can't even utter his name!? He needs help, Meg. I cannot see why you can't understand that!"

"Christine, you would simply throw away what you have? Your talent?"

"He was the one who gave it to me!"

"You don't appreciate what you have! You take it so for granted! I would kill for the leading role in this production… In _any _production! But instead your talent is going to waste!" Meg turned away and let out a frustrated groan. "You are _so _lucky!"

"Luck? Luck has nothing to do with it, Meg! As a performer you should know that! I have worked for every single thing I have in this life. I have worked for my voice, for my dancing ability, for my place at this Opera, and for my happiness with Erik!"

Meg spun around to face me once more.

"I'm not saying that you did not work for it!"

"Then what is it? Jealousy?"

"Jealousy?!"

"Yes!"

"What do I have to be jealous of?"

"I do not know! You tell _me!"_

My friend stared at me for a moment. I could see words on her lips but I would never know what they were for her gaze fell to the ground. When she looked up she wore an unfamiliar expression; sarcasm masked by a thin veneer of loathing. I had never dreamed my friend to be capable of such feelings toward me… and in aide of what? Happiness?

"Why did you return, Christine?" She spat.

"I told you, I have returned to find your mother! I returned for _him!" _I gestured to the floor. Meg followed my gesture with her gaze.

"Is that where you go? Is that where he is? Below?"

"I do not think that you deserve to know, Meg Giry…" I cursed myself for my carelessness. I had given away too much already. "Please, tell me where your mother is."

"She is in her quarters." Meg spat.

"Thank you." I said. Curtseying with an heir of sarcasm before turning around. Regardless of what Meg had said, I hated leaving things the way they were with her but I had more important matters to take care of. As I reached the top of the stairs I heard her speak once more.

"Are you choosing him over our friendship?" She asked, her voice carrying over the marble bannisters to reach me. "That murderer?"

"Don't you speak of him like that." I retorted, approaching her once more. I could not believe she would have said something like that so loudly; for all to hear! "And I am not choosing anything, you are forcing me to!"

"But he is, isn't he? A murderer?"

"Meg." I sighed. "I have to leave. I will speak to you soon, alright."

"Go, Christine." She pouted. I was used to her acting like this. "It hardly matters to me anymore."

"Meg! You know that I care for you! You are my best friend! Nothing will change that! I just…" I sighed in frustration once more…"…There is just so much going on right now! The past twenty-four hours have been… difficult… and I can't see anyone and I cant trust anyone and… I can't handle it all _and know_ that you are upset with me! Can I still trust you?"

Meg looked down.

"Yes, Christine. Go."

I didn't know whether or not I was convinced but I had no more time to spare on this argument and soothing Meg's insecurities. I had already spent too much time above ground and I had not yet seen Madame Giry.

As I made my way up to my sleeping quarters I could not help but feel a sense of nostalgia. I walked in and stared at the small, dank area with a fond smile. It was messy, yes… but we had always had more than we needed and it had been home to me for such a long time. I sat down on my cot that had not been slept in for days and smoothed my hand over the sheets. So much had changed since I was a little girl, lying in this cot unable to sleep while the others snored, praying to my father or whoever would listen… Things had been so much simpler. I stood up and stared out the window as I had done more times than I could count. The wind was freezing. One of the girls had probably forgotten to pull it shut this morning. They always did. I reached over and pulled it closed, as I was so accustomed to doing. After a few more moments of staring out onto the cold, Parisian street below I turned around.

My heart stopped in my chest as my eyes were met with the figure the doorway.

_Raoul._

* * *

**I told you the next update wouldn't take as long :) Hope you enjoyed! There was a lot of talking in this, I know but it had to happen in order for the next few chapters to make sense. More action will soon follow, I promise :) Please review!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hello! Thank you for your patience! Here is the next chap! Please let me know what you think as you lovely people always do :)**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

**Erik**

I lay there in the bed I had always kept for her and I smiled after her as she walked away. Of course I had reservations about her going above on her own but I had done everything I could to ensure that harm would not befall her; I had warned her of what to say if approached by certain people and I had drawn her a new map that would allow her safe passage through my maze. I knew though that it would not be enough. The only thing that comforted me was the fact that this would be the final time she would have to do it; be in danger, be away from me, be anywhere near Raoul… It was terrible timing. Why did she have to traverse above at this time? When I was so incapable, incapacitated? But then I reminded myself that the only reason she was doing such a thing was because I couldn't do it for myself.

I had been injured before like this. Of course I had. A life like mine had seen to many injuries of this calibre, and several under this very roof… this very _building. _And I had simply treated myself and spent the time needed for recovery… I could afford to do that then. Who was there to miss me? To notice that I was gone? No one to come searching for me because no one had ever _seen _me. But now things were different… I _had _been seen… and that was my own fault. But more importantly there was Christine. Christine was above without my watching her. I told her that I would always be watching over her… but now I couldn't. I couldn't when she needed me the most.

I sighed in frustration. If I didn't already despise him for trying to take Christine away from me I certainly did now for putting me in such a position. I hated feeling weak. I hated it more than pity, more than my memories… the eerie strains of the calliope being carried to me by a biting wind, over the heads of the cruel people in front of me, through the bars of my prison, reaching my ears and filling me with the deepest sense of despair I will ever know…

I shivered slightly, a memory all too vivid entering my mind and taking hold. Perhaps there _were _worse things than feeling this way… But all the same it was arduous to endure. I was hungry, and as I brought my hand to my wound, my stomach audibly confirmed this. I smirked to myself, knowing that Christine would have laughed at me had she heard it. She always did find humour in the most trivial of things, and sometimes I laughed along with her. With every hour we spend together it seemed I was becoming more like her… more… _normal. _Perhaps that was bound to happen. God forbid it was the other way around…

I glanced at my bedside table. Half of me was hoping to see some food Christine had left there for me… the other half was hoping that I found nothing. I wanted an excuse to stand up and walk. I had always been active and I was convinced that lying down for such a time was doing me more damage than that blade ever could have. With a yell that I was glad Christine had failed to hear, I stood, my hand clutching my wound tightly. I trusted Christine… yes… but I had experienced wounds opening before, stitches snapping out of carelessness. This time that couldn't happen. I needed to be well for her as soon as I possibly could. Holding onto objects for support as I went I made my way to the kitchen. I had only fruit left but that would do for now. I decided not to sit as I ate for upon standing I realised I would lack the strength to get up again if I did. I finished the apple, soft and powdery as it was and staggered over to my wardrobe. It wasn't my memories haunting me now; I was actually cold. I pulled a shirt off one of the hangers and with some difficulty, pulled it on. After using the bathroom and taking a small drink of water I decided that I had had enough. Presumably I had lost a sizeable amount of blood recently and I knew how easy it could be to misjudge your strength in such a situation. I didn't wish to burden Christine any further. With my remaining strength I wandered back to the bed and lay down. As I stared up at the ceiling I began once more to worry for Christine, but within moments sleep had found me again and I was powerless to resist.

* * *

**Christine**

"Christine…"

What I felt was a mixture of livid anger and very real fear toward the man before me. I had almost lost Erik at his hands and here he stood, approaching me as if he had something to say that I wished to hear. I was furious, I could barely contain my anger… images flashed before my eyes as my gaze met his; images of blood… of Erik lying in the snow- his face; pale. His wound, the fever… but even through my anger I was aware of the danger I was in. No, Raoul would not hurt me. But I was his key to finding Erik and he knew that. He could take me away at this moment and I could do nothing about it… and Erik would never know. He would think that I had left him, finally come to my senses or something equally ridiculous, the scenarios concocted by Erik usually were.

"Raoul." I stated warily, a tone almost soliciting of an explanation. "What… what are you doing here?"

Raoul stared at me in disbelief before stepping toward me. I held my hands out before me and took a step backward, finding that I was trapped by my own cot I had only just been looking down upon so affectionately.

"Stay away from me." I ordered.

"Christine." Raoul repeated, sobering up slightly. "Please… I would not harm you."

"No. Only the people I care about." I spat, finding my confidence again as anger filled me.

"You must know that I n-never meant to…" Raoul sighed as his gaze dropped to the floor. "Is-is he alive?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Christine… I."

"No. No. I don't wish to hear it. I don't wish to hear what you have to say. I haven't come here for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I will…"

"Why _did_ you come? Is he alive?" He repeated.

"I have told you that it is none of your concern."

"Christine… Please! You must understand that whatever else, I care about you! That will never change! Everyone here has been in a state of madness searching for you, including myself. I have been out of my mind with anxiety…"

"You didn't seem to care when you left me in the snow… left _us _in the snow."

"I _asked_ you to accompany me back to the Opera but you would not have it!"

"And leave him there!?" I challenged.

"I _told_ you that I would send help for him but you did not believe me."

"And I still don't." I argued. "Why would you wish for him to live?"

"I… I do for you! Yes, I wished for him to die at first… but… If you want him alive, then you shall have it!" He stepped toward me once more. "I would do _anything _for you!"

"You would do _anything_ for me but allow me happiness?"

"Not with someone like him! I… Christine, I do not understand you! You are aware of his crimes and yet you defend him as if he were a family member. Have you no hubris? No moral compass whatsoever? How can you love someone who has committed such atrocities, and hate someone who would do nothing but love you for the rest of his days?"

I scoffed slightly.

"How can you say that you love me?"

"What..? What do you mean?"

"I ran into Meg just now. She tells me that you have been accosting people, approaching everyone you see and asking them for information about Erik."

"Because he had you! It was to find you!"

"Oh, and am I supposed to believe that upon finding he and I together you would, after prying me away from him against my will, allow him to live out his days in peace?"

Raoul sighed once more.

"Christine…"

"Stop using my name as if it means something to you!"

"Alright!" He held his hands up in a calming gesture. "The truth is, no. I would _not _allow him to live out his days in happiness when he has prevented others from doing just that… But I will allow him to live…" His voice softened. "For _you_." He looked at me. His eyes beckoned me to come to him, to simply walk into his embrace as if he were Erik… He still loved me. I could see that. But I could do little about it. "Christine…" He continued. "If it is your wish, I will allow him to live but know this, when I find him and I _will _find him, I will be handing him over to the authorities myself."

"Then he is as good as dead." I said, the last word hung bitterly in my mouth. Raoul knew very well that Erik meeting with the authorities could only mean one thing; the gallows. I knew it, and so did Erik. Raoul sighed once more.

"His death will not be by my hand, Christine."

"Yes, it will be."

He stared at me for a few moments and at last in his eyes I saw the lost little boy from my childhood. Then his eyes narrowed slightly and he cleared his throat before stepping toward me again.

"I have been searching for you for the last forty eight hours. I am exhausted. Come with me now and do not make a fuss."

"What?!" I asked in angered disbelief.

"Chris…"

"If you think that I am going _anywhere _with you after what you have done… what you have _said…_"

"Why did you think I was searching for you, Mademoiselle?" He asked in a tone I had only ever heard on Erik. It did not make Raoul any more appealing. "I was searching for you to take you away from this place… from _him. _He is nothing but a danger to you and so is this building." He held out his hand as Erik often did but I felt no sense of familiar comfort as he uttered his next word.

"Come." He said.

"No." I spat indignantly. Did he honestly think I would tell him a single detail now that I knew of his intentions?

"Christine." He warned. "You will come with me, and once safe from his grasp you will tell me where he is hiding."

"I will not."

_You will have to kill me. _

At this Raoul approached me and took hold of my shoulders before I could react. He held me firmly in place. I tried to struggle away but it was of no use, he ignored my protestations of discomfort and fear as if they were not there at all.

"Christine." He said once more, his voice; dark. His grip tightened. I wanted to cry, not from the pain but from the fear of such a situation coming to pass. I was dreading being seen by Raoul and yet it had happened. There was no one around and I knew that for once Erik was not watching…

"Unhand me." I growled through gritted teeth, struggling as I did so.

"You will come with me." He whispered, his face now only inches from my own. "With your acquiescence or without it, you will come." I stared into the blue eyes boring into me. It was hard to believe that a face I had once associated with friendship, comfort, warmth, and familial love now instilled such fear in me. His eyes had changed. Perhaps the boy I once new was in there somewhere, perhaps it had just been buried by envy and anxiety… perhaps not. I used to like to think the best of people…

"Let me go!" I yelled, struggling harder. Perhaps someone would have heard me. Raoul began to pull me toward the door. I couldn't let him take me anywhere. I couldn't. But there was no one around… Within a few short steps we had reached the doorframe and my strength was waning.

"Raoul!" I protested. "I don't want this! Let go of me!" I shoved him away from me and for a reason unbeknownst to me he lost his footing and fell against the doorframe.

"Chris…" He growled, standing up and reaching for me once more.

"Monsieur." A voice sounded behind him. He spun around. "What is going on here?"

_Maman._

I pushed past Raoul and into the arms of Madame Giry. As I clung to her I thanked the Lord that she was there for me… she always_ had _been there for me. She and Erik always had been…

_Erik…_

I needed to get back to him.

"Christine, are you alright?" She asked, her arms around me. She turned back to le Vicomte. "_What _is going on here?!"

"You know very well what is going on here, Madame. More than most." I heard Raoul answer; his voice was sycophantic in its quality. What did he mean? Had he already spoken to Madame Giry? I did not dare to turn around.

"I suggest that you move along, le Vicomte." Madame Giry retorted. "The managers will soon be on their way. I wouldn't want to let slip that you have harmed the leading soprano…"

"I own the managers, Madame. I pay everyone in this establishment." His voice grew louder, an indication that he must have stepped closer. "I own this Opera and everybody in it. And… the only person who would attest to that… has been… well… let's just say that he won't be much of a threat at the moment."

Finally I turned around, the images of Erik returning to my clouded mind.

"You…" I began, rage flooding my entire being.

Suddenly the sound of voices reached my ears and I knew without looking at the time that the ballet girls would soon be flooding the sleeping quarters and the surrounding corridors. Raoul took a deep breath and straightened his waistcoat.

"Well… as you have suggested, I will take my leave." Apparently he didn't wish to be seen by the entire corps de ballet. Neither did I. I didn't have time to explain myself to each and every girl. I needed to get back to Erik. "I will be seeing you again… Madame, Mademoiselle." Raoul said icily before bowing slightly and striding away.

I turned back to Madame Giry, mouth agape. Where would I start with all that I needed to tell her?

"Come." She said quietly, apparently reading my thoughts. "Come to my quarters and we will talk."

* * *

**Raoul**

I could not believe my eyes upon seeing Christine. Could not believe my luck. I was searching the entire building for something that now lay right before me. But still I could not make her mine. I could not take her away from this nightmarish place and the situation she had gotten herself into with that _man. _

Upon taking my leave of Christine and that snake of a woman, Madame Giry, I saw a ballet girl making her way up to the very same sleeping quarters; little Meg Giry. Delightful.

"Pardon me, Mademoiselle." I called as politely as I could. She turned around awkwardly.

"Y-yes?" Was the girl nervous? How could she be? We had never spoken. She knew who I was of course but we had never shared words. But of course… she had spoken with Christine prior. As I approached the girl I was very much aware of what they had likely spoken about. She knew of my intentions. That was why she was nervous.

She continued to walk in the direction in which she was heading. With a few short strides I caught up to her, walking slowly beside her with my hands behind my back so as not to threaten her further.

"Meg Giry, is it?" I asked, pretending to confirm her identity when I knew very well whom she was and just what role she was yet to play. "You are… friends with Miss Daae, are you not?"

"I-I am, yes." She replied. Her voice was small. She was clearly uneasy and still intent on getting wherever it was she was going… To her mother, probably. I knew then that I had to make light work of this conversation.

"Have you seen her?" I asked abruptly. The girl looked at me, stopping in her tracks for a few moments before continuing.

"Not in a few days." She lied.

"Meg." I warned. "Tell me the truth." Again she stopped in her tracks, this time biting her lip awkwardly. She glanced ahead before meeting my gaze once more. "I know that Christine spoke with you just now. She told me." I said.

"You- you have seen her?! She was…"

"She was _what_?"

"She was…" She looked up at me. "Monsieur, she is my dear friend…"

"She was _what?"_ I repeated, moving closer to her. Meg looked down.

"She was… hoping to avoid you."

I cringed inwardly.

_Of course she was._

"And why she hoping to avoid me?"

"Monsieur, I…"

"Why?" I moved closer still, now setting one of my hands out before me, leaning on the wall behind Meg. She was feeling uncomfortable, yes. The better part of me knew that I was causing it.

"She is my dear friend. I cannot say anymore."

"Your '_dear friend'_ as you keep saying?" I repeated, moving back slightly. I knew exactly what to say next. "But… forgive me… you cant have seen her a lot recently? I know that _I _haven't."

"No, I- I haven't seen her a lot…" She said, seemingly surprised at herself, as if she realisation was only dawning on her as the very words escaped her lips. "…but that's because…" She brought her hands to her mouth but I knew exactly what she was going to say.

"Because?" I asked in mock ignorance.

"I cannot!" She cried.

"It is alright, Meg." I began, placing a placating hand upon her shoulder. "I already _know _where she has been, why you have not seen her… why _we _have not seen her these past days… these past months! You see…" I moved closer once more but she seemed slightly less ill at ease. "I know that she has been with _him."_

"Him?" She repeated.

"Oh yes… The Opera Ghost…"

"You- you know that? She told me not to say anything to anyone, Monsieur…"

"And you haven't. You have been a _very_ good friend to her. But… can you say the same for her?"

I was planting these ideas in her innocent mind and I could almost see them growing like weeds, like a vine; unstoppable in its eternal reach for the sun… for the truth.

"No… I- Well, I mean to say that… I don't really hold it against her…"

"You don't?"

"Well… I would like to see her more… and… I suppose… what I know of him…"

"You know of his deeds? That he has murdered?"

Meg nodded.

"And… I have tried to tell Christine! I have tried to tell her that he is not good company to keep but he seems to care for…"

"I have told her also." I interrupted. "But she fails to see reason."

Meg looked down once more, nodding slowly.

"Mademoiselle…" I finally ventured. "What do you know of where he lives?"

"Oh, I cannot say! I have said too much already!"

"Nonsense! You have told me nothing that I don't already know! And I swear to you, Christine will know nothing of this conversation…"

She did not respond.

"Meg…" I began, my voice intentionally warm and smooth. "Tell me what you know…"

"I cannot, Monsieur. I am sorry."

I was growing frustrated, tiring of these games. The more time that passed the stronger he would grow and I needed to move _now. _I moved closer once more, now placing both hands on the wall behind her. I did not want to have to resort to this…

"Do you know of my position here at the Opera? Do you know why I am here to begin with?"

"Yes…"

"Well… it would be safe to say that everyone here earns a wage out of my pocket."

She nodded.

"Do you wish to remain here, Miss Giry? Your mother?"

"Y-yes…" She replied. Her voice was quavering, as if on the verge of tears but her eyes showed no signs of the emotion I heard.

"I hope that you understand my meaning." I stated, standing up and straightening my cravat.

"I do." She replied. I spoke slowly.

"Where… does he live?"

Meg took a deep breath and turned to her right, the direction in which her sleeping quarters were and the direction in which her mother and Christine would still surely be. After a few silent moments she turned back to me and responded dutifully.

"I don't know." She said. "Below. I know that he is below."

I nodded. We were finally making some ground.

"Christine will return to him shortly. Of that much I am certain. I need to know how to get to him. An entrance. That is all I need." All I needed was to know where Christine entered. How did she get to him? The walls? Was there a secret hatch somewhere that I was yet unaware of?

Meg nodded once more.

"I will return to you tomorrow." I said. "I hope to have an answer."

I left here there in the corridor. I did not say anything else. It was not needed. I had made myself quite clear. I brushed past the approaching chorus girls, bustling, laughing, and gossiping about no doubt everybody at the Opera, myself included. I left the building with a small smile upon my face. I had made progress.

* * *

**Thank you for your patience! What did you think?! What do you think is going to happen? Please review, friends :)**


	26. Chapter 26

**Hi! So, good news! Yesterday i submitted my very last assignment, and I'm waiting on the results but i have pretty much finished my degree. So i guess that makes me a designer now? Or do i have to be employed as a designer to call myself that? Oh well. I'm still using the title :P. So anyway this means loads more time to write! Yay!**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

**Christine**

As soon as Madame Giry closed the door behind her I threw myself into her arms.

"My child, what happened? Where have you been?" She questioned.

"I…" I began through sobs. "I came to see you because… of Erik."

"I gathered as such." She said calmly.

I nodded. Where would I start?

"Thank you for… just now." I pulled away slowly and wiped my eyes.

"You are my child. You have no need to thank me for such things."

I smiled weakly. Yes, Madame Giry had always treated me like a daughter but to a certain extent, there had always been somewhat of a barrier between us. I had always assumed that it was just the way she was. She often spoke of losing her husband, and Meg, although she had never met her father, always assumed that _that _had been the turning point for her mother.

_Meg…_

_Raoul…_

"Le Vicomte…" I began.

"He came to see me."

"He… he did? Why? Was it about Erik?"

"Of course."

"Meg said that he had been questioning people about my whereabouts but I did not even consider that he would have approached you. Did he harm you?"

"No." She looked down. "I only suffered as you did. When I refused to respond to his questioning he got quite upset but he did not harm me." She met my gaze again. "I do not know when this situation with Raoul began to escalate to such an extent, but I trust that you have your reasons for treating him as you do and that you are in the right. I always have. Whatever has happened, he is very determined, Christine. Do not take him lightly."

"I am not! He almost killed…"

Madame Giry's eyes widened at the word. Realising how little she actually knew of what had transpired, I took a breath and continued.

"He almost killed Erik…" I looked down.

"Is… is he…?"

"He is alright for now." I answered with a smile. She was putting so much effort into sounding nonchalant, but I knew that she cared for Erik almost as much as I did. "Since Raoul saw Erik things began to change with him. I… suppose that I never expected him to simply accept my decision but… anyway, after the Bal, I went to the cemetery to visit my father's grave and Erik accompanied me."

She nodded.

"Raoul was there and he tried to take me away with him… Of course, Erik defended me but it all went terribly wrong and Raoul wounded him and... I've just spent the last few days seeing to his health."

Madame Giry's gaze did not falter.

"You are sure that he is well?"

"Yes. He fought off an infection the first night but…" I grimaced at the memory. "I sewed the wound."

"You are a strong person, Christine. I always knew it to be true. Thank you for doing that. How is he now?"

"Fine… still in pain but fine. But in his condition I cannot risk anything, and… well I believe that Raoul will not give up until…"

"Until Erik is found." Madame Giry finished.

"Yes. And that is what I have come here to talk to you about. With things as they are, I am afraid that… Erik and I will need to leave."

"Leave?"

"Yes." I said softly. I knew that such a thing would be difficult for her to hear. "Within two weeks. It may even be sooner."

"But… Christine, _leave?" _She repeated. "I…" She sat down on the divan in her room and took a deep breath. "I am sorry, Christine. You seem to care for him a lot, and heavens knows he cares for you but… I'd simply always imagined that you would stay here… At least until you married."

_Married…_

Once, briefly, I had dreamed of marrying Raoul. But now, all that I could see was Erik. A slight smile tugged at my mouth as I imagined the event. Walking up the aisle, gazing down at my feet as I so often did… then finally looking up to see him standing ahead of me, utterly exuberant with happiness but visibly humbled by crippling disbelief. But his smile. He smiled at me as no one else did. Perhaps it was so special because I seldom saw it, perhaps more so because those around us saw it even less. I paid no mind to those around me. Erik and I would not have a large wedding but now, they were there all the same.

"Christine…" Madame Giry prompted me to speak.

"Sorry…" I said, shaking my head slightly. "I know. I wanted to. I wanted to stay. Everything was opportune with my performances and Erik, but things have changed such that I cannot stay. If Raoul sees me again, I am afraid that he will take me but this isn't simply about me. He wishes to harm Erik and even if he does not succeed in that, I am terrified that he _will _at least find him and that the last time I will _see_ Erik will be at the Palais du Justice…"

Madame Giry cringed. She knew exactly what that meant.

"Of course, Erik is convinced that no one will ever find him." I added with a smirk that was returned by the woman before me. "But he sees the need to leave all the same."

"I know. I too know it to be the only way but I… I cannot imagine this place without you, _or _without _he,_ for what that is worth."

I smirked weakly. Erik was a menace to those in the company. She wasn't going to deny the fact. No one that was close to him ever would.

"And I cannot imagine a life without you, _or _without this place." I said. "Since my father died it has been all that I have known. But I love him, Maman."

"I know you do, child." She smiled.

"And I will do whatever it takes for us to be together. I know that I sound silly… but I never expected to feel this way about anyone, let alone…"

She nodded.

"I know. Where will you go?"

"I do not know. Not yet. I assume that we will leave Paris. Will you help me?" I asked.

"But of course, Christine. What is it that you need? Money?"

I shook my head. Erik hadn't mentioned money.

"I need bandages for Erik, he has run out. And… I need food." I added apprehensively. I felt terrible asking for these things even if I _did _see Madame Giry as a mother. "I know that you cannot give me food enough for two weeks. We may need to leave sooner than that, and I may even need to visit you again before the time comes but… whatever you have I would gladly take. He has little but stale fruit in his home and I worry that he does not eat enough."

"Of course you do, you beautiful child."

I smiled awkwardly.

"You are in luck." She said, standing up. "I went out earlier and bought food enough for a few days. I hadn't had a chance to shelve any of it as of yet, so it is all right here." She gestured to a bag on the floor beside her bed. "You are welcome to it."

"All of it?"

"Of course."

"Thank you kindly." I said with a smile. "And… the bandages? Have you any?"

"Yes." She nodded. She knelt down before a cupboard on the opposite side of the room and returned with what I needed. "I always keep these here in case of injury. You will need to sterilise them, though."

I nodded.

"I know." I certainly didn't have the strength for another infection and I doubt that he did.

"Christine I… I cannot believe that you are doing this; leaving."

"Neither can I." I responded. I wondered whether or not I would see her again. I certainly hoped that I would, but I had little knowledge of what the future had in store.

"My child." He began, touching the side of my face with a kind of gentle warmth that could only be associated with motherly affection. "I don't know what to say to you. Where do I start? I have raised you since you were seven years old."

"I know." I said. "Thank you." I knew that she was not comfortable voicing her affections for me. She never had been and I wished to save her the discomfort. She didn't need to say anything to me. Words were just words.

"Wait." She said, removing her hand and rushing to her desk. She returned with a letter and handed it to me. It was a plain, off-white envelope with nothing more on the front than one word written in a rough cursive;

_Christine._

"What is this?" I asked. She sighed before responding.

"This…" She seemed to be struggling with her words. "This is… from your father."

I stared at her, blinking several times, unable to speak.

"I am sorry that I kept it from you. He… he told me to give it to you upon turning eighteen years of age but I think it appropriate now."

Yes, I was upset with her for keeping such a thing from me for so long. So many times over the years I had been desperately missing my father. I had found myself unable to cope with his loss, had struggled to see point in continuing on without him. I would have done anything for a scrap of communication from him; anything, even if it were no longer relevant. I was upset. But… there was something more pressing that was plaguing me; what was in that letter.

I looked back down at the envelope in my hands. I couldn't open it. Not in front of her, not in front of anyone. I would save it for a time when I was mentally prepared to hear from my father… my _actual _father…

"That… that is alright. Thank you." I said.

"Please do not be upset with me, Christine. It was his dying wish that I take care of you and deliver that very letter to you when the time was right. I believe that I have done that today. Perhaps that letter will even speak what I am not able to. Your father and I… we both loved you greatly. We _love _you greatly."

My breath caught in my chest as I realised that this was the first time she had told me she loved me. I loved her dearly, as she did me. But we had never uttered the words. Madame Giry and I had always shared an unspoken language of sorts. I found her choice of words strange but I did not mention it. Instead, I looked up at her and upon meeting her gaze, I realised that I could not remain upset with her.

"I am not upset." I said. "This is simply… unexpected. Thank you." I repeated, touching her hand. She gripped it tightly and I could see tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you for everything."

_I love you. _

I couldn't say it.

We stared into each other's eyes for a few moments, perhaps on the verge of speaking, perhaps not. The silence was at last broken by the chime of a clock on the desk behind her.

"I must go…" I said, looking down. I was reminded of the time and in truth, my heart was too full to continue the conversation. "I… need return to Erik."

"Yes." She said, wiping a tear.

"I may see you before I leave." I spoke, almost an attempt at convincing myself. "I will try to. But… if not…"

At that she pulled me into an embrace.

"If not, I pray that you two will take care of one another until we meet again. And I know that we will."

I returned her embrace and left before my emotions overcame me.

It was only upon reaching Erik's home did I realise that I had neglected to mention my discussion with Meg…

* * *

**Meg**

I felt a flush with both guilt and fear, but a small part of me was quite taken with the excitement of it; the satisfaction I would gain from what I was to do. After all, what _was _I to Christine? It seemed I was not even worth her time anymore. I knew where Christine was and I knew that all I needed to do was follow her. Then, everything would be set right. There would be a little sadness, a little confusion and a little pain… but then, everything would be as it was.

I stook behind one of the walls leading to Maman's bedroom and waited. After ten minutes or so, I was rewarded for my patience. I drew close to the wall as I saw the door creak open. There were a few whispered words, a final embrace and the door was softly shut once more, this time with Christine on the outside. She was carrying a bag of sorts. I didn't really care to imagine what was inside, for it wouldn't be relevant for long. She stopped for a moment. Thinking she had somehow heard me I shrunk back against the wall once more, but she did not turn around. Instead, she simple stared at Maman's door with an expression I could not quite read, before turning on her heel and starting down the corridor.

I followed her as she rushed past the sleeping quarters, now filled with excitable, chatty girls, making a fuss over god knows what. I glanced longingly into the room as I passed it, knowing that I was no longer one of them, that after what I was about to do, I would no longer be able to simply laugh with the careless ignorance that they did. No longer be able to revel in a simple happy moment of youth, mostly unaware of its value. Things would change. But I had already agreed to what I was about to do. I was to follow this path to its end.

Christine made her way down the grand escalier where I had spoken to her prior, and into the main foyer. I had to be careful to keep my distance as I saw her glance at the mirrors on either side as she walked. She stopped at the end of the foyer, standing at the far wall. I jumped behind one of the many busts decorating the hall as she glanced behind her, and I could not believe what I saw next; Christine produced a key from within her skirts and a door somehow concealed in the wall seemed to open. Her key was met with a lock that in all my years here, I had neglected to see.

Beyond the door was darkness. Christine stepped inside, entirely enveloped by it before closing it behind her. Then, the wall was as it had always been. As soon as I lost sight of Christine I approached the wall. Save for a small key hole that was disguised by the intricate damask wallpaper, and a feint line which outlined the door I had just seen, this wall looked like any other. Why was that door there? Why had no one mentioned it prior to now? Had anyone even seen it? And if they had, why had they not told me of it? Maman knew of this. She must have. And had had neglected to share it with me. She had neglected to share _any _secrets with me and so had Christine. She, Maman and this Erik surely shared some connection that they did not wish for me to be part of. In fact, the only person in this Opera who had approached me with something real, the only person who trusted me with an actual task was le Vicomte. To him, I was more than just a chorus girl. I had intelligence and I had strength just as much as Christine and perhaps he could see it! Yes, he had threatened me into agreeing to this task but as I stood there staring at the wall before me, I realised that he didn't have to.

When I next saw le Vicomte tomorrow I would tell him; I would tell him exactly where I had seen Christine enter and I would feel little to no remorse.

* * *

**Christine**

When I finally made it back down to Erik's home I was slightly more at ease about Raoul _and _my other concerns. The letter, my conversation with Meg… Why was everything so complex? I wanted to unburden myself to Erik.

Perhaps the walk had calmed my nerves, perhaps Madame Giry or perhaps both. Prior to now I had been in a state such that I had neglected to have a care about Erik's condition. What if he had attempted to walk and fallen? What if he lay on the ground bleeding to death with no one to call out to? My imagination always seemed to get the better of me but now I was concocting whole scenarios in my head, scenarios in which the worst always seemed likely. Perhaps that meant too much time spent around him…

Thankfully though I approached the bed to find Erik lying in bed just as I had left him. The blankets were strewn about his waist haphazardly but his breathing was even and he seemed to be at rest. I wanted to tell him all about my encounters, both because I was still quite shaken up _and _due to the fact that he had to know what had transpired but I didn't wish to wake him. However as I walked closer to him he began to stir and I couldn't help but be glad of the fact.

"Christine…" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and smiling at me. He sat up, holding his stomach wound and grimacing as he did so. "I am sorry. I… had meant to stay awake for you but I could not."

"That's alright." I smiled, sitting down beside him, setting down the bag I had been holding and kissing him softly. "I'm glad that you could find some rest."

"I _was_ worried though. Don't think that I wasn't! What happened? Did you see Madame Giry?"

_Yes… and everyone else…_

_Raoul…_

I could not help but think of Raoul and the fear I had felt at his hands. _Yes, _I saw Madame Giry but what would have happened if I had not? Where would I be? Tears began to well in my eyes and I nodded abruptly. Apparently so much so that Erik saw through my façade. I thought that I would be able to speak calmly to Erik about all that had happened, but just hearing his voice seemed to cause my emotions to return almost instantly.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head dismissively, turning away from him. He gently turned my face toward him until I was forced to meet his gaze.

"My love, what is it? What happened?"

At the mercy of his affection it seemed that I could no longer hold back my emotion. I began to weep. Erik pulled me into an embrace, much to his own discomfort.

"Why do you cry?" He placed a kiss atop my head. "Raoul? Did you see Raoul?"

I nodded and wept harder at the name, wrapping my arms around Erik and crying into his warmth. It was Raoul but it was so much more. I hadn't wanted to weep. I hadn't wanted to put Erik though any further undue worry or stress but I couldn't help myself.

"_Yes?"_ He asked, slightly alarmed. "Was that a yes, Christine?"

"Yes." I managed through sobs. At this Erik pulled away from me, holding me at arms length and looking into my eyes.

"You saw him!? What did he do to you! This is why you cry? Tell me what happened!"

I didn't _want _to talk about it. Not anymore. I just wanted him to hold me.

"Tell me, Christine!" He demanded.

"I saw him! He saw _me! _He… _found _me." I managed. If he had been wearing a shirt I would have been gripping it tightly but I had to suffice with his arms. "Erik… please just hold me." I wept.

"Of course!" He said, holding me tightly once more. "But you must tell me what happened!"

"I know." I said before taking a deep breath. "I… I was so afraid…"

"I will _kill _him."

Raoul had aimed to kill Erik, yes. He had attempted it, in fact. But I could not help but inwardly shudder when Erik spoke of murder so trivially. Perhaps it wasn't trivial at all, which was potentially worse. I hated violence… but if this situation reached it's head and there was no other way…?

I pushed the debate to the back of my mind, convincing myself that I did not have to find a solution at that very second. Erik took a breath before speaking once more, his voice low and purposeful.

"What happened?"

"I… I was on my way to see Madame Giry. I was in the sleeping quarters and… I simply turned around to leave and he was there!"

"Why were you in there?"

"I… I wandered in there… I know how silly it was in retrospect, but I was reminiscing and I…"

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It's alright. Tell me what happened then."

"What you would expect." I sniffed. "He kept trying to convince me that _he _was right for me. Kept trying to coerce me to leave with him, and when I refused he tried to force me."

Erik scowled as he listened.

"I told him that he was crazy if he believed I trusted him after what he did to you… and… he said that he would hand you over to the authorities…"

Erik scoffed.

"He shall have to find me first." His smirk left his face as he searched my eyes. "Did he hurt you?"

"No… I… my arm is a little sore but I am fine."

Erik shook his head in incredulous exasperation.

"He dares to harm you." He said, almost to himself. "I am so sorry. I cannot say it enough. I should have been watching you!"

"Please, Erik." I began. "Do not blame yourself! The fault lies with him, and him alone."

"I… I am livid, Christine. You cannot even imagine."

"I know." I smiled uneasily.

"What happened? How did you free yourself from him?"

"Madame Giry was there. Simply opportune timing, I suppose."

Erik nodded before taking a deep breath.

"And what of her? Does she know of our intentions? Did you get what we need?"

I nodded.

"She asked if we needed any money at first, but you didn't mention…"

"No, of course not. I have everything we will need."

Again, I nodded.

"What is it?" He asked again.

I looked up at him, my eyes questioning his.

"What else? There is something else troubling you… tell me."

How was it that he knew me so well? In his arms I unburdened myself. I told him of how I saw Meg and our argument, of how I had lost my trust for her. I told him of my concerns for the future and my apprehension of leaving the Opera.

"I understand. Perhaps, more than anyone. I haven't left here in a good many years, I told you that."

"Yes. And I_ want_ to do it, you know that. I _will_ do it… but it will be difficult. And there is just so much on my mind as to what is going to happen and then… then Madame Giry gave me this…"

I produced the letter from within my skirts and handed it to him.

"Have you opened it?"

I shook my head.

"I don't know that I am ready now. Perhaps… after we have left?"

"Whenever you wish." He said, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head. "Shall we eat?" He added with a mischievous grin. I could not help but laugh. I wanted to eat; I hadn't had a proper meal in day and neither had he but I never expected him to be so forthright in suggesting it.

"Let's eat." I smiled. Whatever else happened, tonight we would eat and we would enjoy the company of one another as we had done before things had become so complicated. We would deal with everything else when the time came. Tonight, we would choose to enjoy ourselves.

If I had any concept of what lay in store for us the next day, perhaps I would have chosen differently.

* * *

**Let me know what you think as you lovely people always do! :)**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hello! I know that it has been months, but just know that I had always planned on continuing this story. I had added bits and pieces when i could but as you may or may not know I've started full-time work as a designer and as well as being sapped of creativity by my job, I'm also sapped of energy. So many nights I have begun writing only to fall asleep at my laptop. I mean, if I'm being honest, the bad diet probably doesn't help.**

**Anyway! Here is the next chapter! I have received a ton of inspiring/concerned reviews lately and I need to say that regardless of time between updates, I WILL finish this story. I won't just go missing, I promise. On that note I need to thank you all for your support because honestly, each time I received a review or message, it motivated me to just suck it up and write. So please continue with that because sometimes I need that. Many of you are already following my other story 'Time is Short', but if not, check it out. It is another EC, what if type story. One that I started first and I update that intermittently as well.**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

**Erik**

It was a delightful evening. With Christine's help I was able to rise out of bed, and with her assistance I was able to prepare a meal for the both of us. So much had happened since we had last been able to take part in such a simple pleasure and while many concerns loomed over us, we were able to get through the evening relatively unhindered by them. We were also, surprisingly, able to get through the evening without thinking on them much. Once the meal was finished we lay down next to one another on the bed. I held my arm out on the bed; an invitation for an embrace from Christine which I received.

"Are you warm enough?" I asked her, pulling her closer. "Are you comfortable?"

She nodded with a smile.

"Yes, Erik. Do not worry about me. I am contented where I am." She said, her thumb caressing my arm gently. Would I ever tire of such a feeling? "What of you?" She asked.

"I am fine, my dear. I do wish that you would allow me out of this bed more often though, I cannot stand to be idle."

"…But you _aren't _being idle." She said, lifting her head to place a kiss upon my lips. "You have _me _here."

"Yes." I responded nervously, unsure of exactly what she was suggesting. "Of course."

"Kiss me, Erik."

I obliged. She pulled my head toward her, deepening the kiss for a few moments before I pulled away.

"Christine…"

"What? You don't want to?"

"Of course I do, but I am still in a great deal of pain and…"

"But that isn't the only reason why…"

Of course it wasn't. It _was_ plaguing me but it wouldn't have stopped my intimacy with Christine, my sense of propriety was doing that.

"No. It isn't. My dear, we have discussed this once before."

"I just want you to kiss me, though! It's not as if I'm asking that we…"

"But its not that simple, Christine." I sat up slightly. "I don't wish to argue with you. Not now."

"I don't wish that either, I'm just asking you to explain it to me! Why cant you just kiss me, and then we can stop, what consequences could there be?"

"Life is made of consequences."

"Please, just give me a real answer."

"Christine…" I ran my hand through my hair in frustration. "We have spoken of intimacy. I cannot simply start, and then stop… not the way that you were kissing me."

"Stop what?!"

I could feel my cheeks reddening, both from discomfort _and _frustration. I didn't have the energy for this conversation. I could not go any further with her until we were married, or at the very least, engaged. It was then that I realised I had never mentioned that to her.

"Christine, please listen to me." I placed a kiss upon her forehead. "Please know that I want nothing more than to oblige, but I cannot yet." To my dismay, Christine sighed. "Do you remember our conversation on the roof? Marriage? Had you forgotten? I most certainly had not." I took a deep breath. Why were my palms sweating? We had spoken of our feelings in the past and I had already mentioned the notion of marriage and she had accepted. Suddenly I began to feel overheated; my chest was on fire where Christine lay. I took another deep breath. I had to say it before I was unable to. "Christine, when we leave here, I plan to marry you. You know this."

"Yes." She said, smiling up at me.

"Once we are married I will have no reservations at all and if you still decide that… you wish for your first time to belong to me… we can do what you wish."

"Erik…" She seemed shocked. Whether that was out of joy or something else, I couldn't tell. I prayed for it to be the former. Suddenly I felt constricted, suffocated. I even considered removing myself from beneath her. Unthinkable. I should be so lucky to be in such close proximity with this woman. But my skin was on fire.

"How…" I struggled, clearing my throat. "How does that sound? I plan to propose to you officially, of course. I am nothing if not old fashioned. For God's sake, don't think _this _to be my proposal…. Or what I said on the rooftop. I mean to say that… it will be under much better circumstances than this, but I think it fair that you know that my intentions have not changed." I felt my chest tightening with the helpless longing I had felt for her before I had revealed myself. My palms were still sweating and all of a sudden my mouth was in dire need of moisture. I was glad I'd finished all I needed to say for I was sure that I would not have been able to speak had she asked it of me.

"Of course, Erik." She spoke after an agonising moment. "Neither have mine." She held my face in her hands and rested her forehead against mine. I prayed to whomever would hear that she would not be able to feel my temperature. "I cannot wait for the day."

Then once more, she held me and I was able to relax into her embrace, exhaling into her hair.

"Nor I." I whispered. "But do you mean that?" I asked, my skin feeling instantly cooler. She looked up at me.

"Erik…" She began, seemingly quite frustrated.

"I know. I know." I said, rolling my eyes. "I just need to check…"

"No you don't." She said with a smile. Suddenly Christine pulled away and looked down at her lap.

"What is it?" I asked. Had she changed her mind already?

"I think…" She began. "I think that I wish to read that letter now…"

"Now?" I replied, an eyebrow cocked in surprise. What on Earth could have forced her mind to return to such a concept while we were sharing a moment? I cursed myself for my selfishness. She _was _allowed to think on things other than me… "Christine, this… is not a decision you should make lightly. This is from your father; this is likely the last contact you will have with him, and who knows what it might contain?"

"I know but Erik, who knows what the future might hold? What if something happens and I never get to read it… and I want _you _to read it too. What if something hap…"

She stopped herself and met my gaze. She bit her lip; a nervous trait I had not taken note of before now.

"If something happens to me." I finished. "You can say it. It's quite all right. I've gotten used to the idea; things _do _happen to me and they _will _in the future."

"But I mean because of Raoul…"

"I take your meaning." I said curtly. "It is your choice, Christine. You know of my secrets regarding your father, or lack thereof. I have told you everything regarding that…" I had to choose my words carefully for I had not told her _everything _about my life and a part of me believed that I never would. "I have nothing to hide and I have nothing to gain or lose from you reading that letter, I think only of you."

"I know." She thought for a moment before speaking. "Will you read it to me? I scarcely possess the strength."

I didn't think it quite appropriate but before I could attest, the letter was thrust into my hand.

"Of course…" I managed. Of course I would share her burden, whatever it was. I would carry it if I could. I would shoulder her every ounce of pain and discomfort, I would cry her tears, every bad feeling she was ever forced to endure I would take upon myself… So then why was this so difficult to do?

Carefully, I opened the envelope, the wax seal tearing the paper slightly as I did so. I rolled my eyes. That always happened.

"Sorry…" I said, looking at her.

"Don't be silly. It is the contents of the letter that I am concerned with, not the paper on which it was written."

"Yes, I know but perhaps you wanted to keep it and…"

"Erik. Just open it, please." She was smiling but I could tell from her tone that she was growing aggravated. I couldn't delay any longer. I nodded dutifully and unfolded the letter. I knew that it was not the right thing to do but I could not help but skim the contents before I began to read. Perhaps it was in aid of Christine's preservation, perhaps it was just curiosity. Whichever the motive, I did not expect to read the words before me. Not at all.

"Christine…"

"What? What is it?"

"He…"

"What, Erik!"

"Christine… This was dated a month ago." I looked up at her, not quite knowing how to deliver the next three words.

"He is alive."

* * *

**Meg**

Feeling flushed with both purpose and guilt, I decided to take a walk before bed. It was just after dinnertime and being winter, I could just see the remnants of the sun; a feint glow from behind the surrounding buildings. It would soon be gone and the city would be glowing with that rosy hue of twilight; the cold blue tinge complimented by the firelight of the street lamps. They were only just being lit. Soon, it would be dark, and I would have to be home. Maman didn't like the idea of me wandering the streets after dark, even if they _were _the surrounding streets of where we lived. She said there was too much bad in this world to take any risks. But this was my favourite time of the day, and usually at this time I took walks to enjoy it.

Not tonight.

Tonight I needed air, and I needed space. I needed time to think about what I had seen and what I was to do the next morning. I would tell le Vicomte what I had seen. Wouldn't I? Yes… Yes, I would. He had threatened me with my career; my _life. _What if he saw to Maman and I being removed from the Opera, forced to live on the streets that Maman so worried about. And what was I telling him, really? Where I saw Christine enter? There had to be _several _entrances to the Phantom's home and there were many caverns and tunnels beneath the Opera. I knew _that _for a fact, assuming that common Opera gossip was fact, which it usually was.

Raoul might not find anyone after all?

I was saving my career for allowing him some information; information that might not lead to anything anyway. I knew that this was desperate justification. I knew that what I was going to do was wrong but I knew that I was going to go through with it. I had made up my mind…

I pulled my wrap tightly around my shoulders as I walked, deep in thought, oblivious to the passers-by, oblivious to my surroundings, oblivious to the man walking toward me, several seconds away and with the same thing on his mind. Of course, I _had_ considered options. At first I had made the decision in a rage of jealousy and hurt but afterward I had thought on it; I had considered approaching Christine and her _Erik, _asking for _his _help with this but the mere thought of having a conversation with him seemed unspeakable, and in reality, it was le Vicomte who had control over my career; control over the Opera. I had to appease him. Yes, I was upset with Christine, but I was doing this for myself. I had to admit it. I owed her _that_ much.

Looking left and then right for passing carriages I stepped out onto the cobbled streets, and began walking toward the café adjacent to my home. I knew that I didn't deserve it but I fancied something warm on this cold night.

I paid for my beverage and sat down at one of the empty tables near the window. It was a Sunday night and there were several spare. I took a sip of my drink and stared out onto the street. The chocolate was sweet. I looked down at it and smiled to myself. Memories. Memories of a time when things were much less complicated. I looked up to see Raoul de Chagny entering the café.

His eyes were searching the small space. He must have seen me enter, or perhaps he was simply in need of a warm beverage like myself. Either way, deciding to put him out of his misery I called to him.

"Monsieur." I spoke. Immediately he met my gaze and approached me.

"Have you thought on my offer?" He asked as he sat down without invitation.

I scoffed and looked down at the drink warming my hands.

"It is lovely to see you too…"

"I apologise." He began, his shoulders dropping slightly. "But I see no need to play games at this point."

He was right. There _was _no need. Perhaps I was intentionally delaying the inevitable.

"Would you care to order something at least?"

"No." He said abruptly. "I was on my way home when I saw you enter. I _had _planned to approach you tomorrow but saw no harm in checking in with you." He looked at me expectantly. His eyes, once soft and filled with the hopeless sincerity of youth, were now steely and they stared me down with a desperate determination.

I sighed and took a sip of the drink in my hands, using the time to consider my options one final time. Did I need to do this? Perhaps I could speak to her first? No. She wouldn't even make the time to speak to me. I looked up at Raoul before gazing out the window.

Why was it that Christine was worthy of vocal lessons, worthy of someone's attention and care when I was not? And mother knew, she must have. Perhaps everyone knew! Perhaps it had been mother who had allowed the farce between them to begin in the first place! That made it worse! My own mother! My own mother pushing Christine towards greatness when I was left to struggle in the darkness, work and suffer in the stark loneliness, un-noticed, un-loved. It was wrong. _He _was wrong. _They _were wrong.

"Tell me what you know." Le Vicomte spoke softly, lowering his head as he did so and intensifying his ragged glare. I looked at him. "Tell me." He repeated. Before I could stop myself I had opened my mouth and spoken and Raoul had whisked me out of the shop and back onto the cold streets of the 9th arrondissement.

"Show me!" He was whispering desperately as he dragged me along. "Show me where!" But his voice was not clear; it was like an echo, muted. He seemed very far away and so did the rest of the city. All I could think about what I had done. What I had started.

* * *

**Erik**

"I need to see her. I need to see Madame Giry! Now!" She cried after reading the letter. She stood up.

"Christine, calm down. Perhaps you should…"

"No. No! She must know. She must know something."

"She may very well know something but you cannot simply rush off to her without thinking anything through!"

"What is to think through, Erik? He is my father! He is alive!"

"He _could _be." I corrected cautiously. "_Could…"_

_"_Well it does not matter. We… we must leave!"

"Christine. Please, calm yourself and think about what you are saying! Think of the situation around us that is still _very much_ a concern!"

She sat back down next to me and took me by the shoulders.

"Erik, you know what this means to me! You would know more than anyone. The hours spent weeping over my father when I first arrived here were heard only by you."

"I know!" I nodded, looking away. "_God… _ I know." When Christine had arrived, I too had been at my peak of loneliness. For the first few years, I saw the Opera as a safe haven; the caverns beneath were a sanctuary, but as the years wore on, the realisation that I may very well see the end of my days in those same caverns settled over me like a thick, suffocating blanket. When Christine had arrived, the shroud had lifted. She had given me hope, light, purpose.

"We were going to leave soon anyway, were we not?" Christine continued. "Please, you must help me find him!"

I took a deep breath. Up until weeks ago, I had only ever had to worry about myself. Now, here I was, having to solve complex problems with the woman I loved. I knew that my answer could easily decide my fate; our safety… _hers. _This was a lot of pressure.

"You know that I would do anything at all… _anything _possible to ensure your happiness, to fill that void inside you that could only ever come from loneliness… the lack of a parent…" I cringed outwardly, unintentionally making reference to my own angst. Christine took my hand, apparently tuned in to such angst. "…And I will help you find your father, or at least help you get to the bottom of that letter. If that is that is what you want, I will do everything in my power." I squeezed her hand tightly. "But we should wait."

"…But Erik…"

"You have just been above ground and If anyone were to see you again it would arouse suspicion! Just wait until tomorrow morning!"

"I cannot! It is too long!"

"Do not do this to me, Christine. Do not do this when you know I cannot escort you!"

"I am not asking you to!"

"But you know what I would want to! Knowing you were up there once was bad enough…"

"You fell asleep!"

"I have been stabbed!" I shot, my face screwed up in stupefaction. Christine began to smile. Unsure of exactly what was funny about what had been said, I began to smile also. Perhaps it was just the sight of her smile that had made me do so.

"Listen, I am using whatever remaining clout I have from my teaching days and I am standing firm in this, Christine!"

"Erik, that won't work anymore!" She smiled.

"And why not!"

"Because I know you too well now." She replied, stroking my hair affectionately.

"Well then _know_ that I am saying this for your own good!"

"_Please _allow me to see her. I would not normally take such a risk but… it's my father. I promise to be careful."

"I am not trying to upset you by doing this. I only want you to be safe and…"

"…And I will be." She said softly, stroking my hair again. It was as if she had already made her decision regardless of what I said, regardless of whatever valid points I made. Why could she not understand the dangers involved in what she was proposing? There I was, lying before her with a hole in my body due to my own carelessness, and seemingly it was not real enough for her to comprehend.

"I need to go." She said, placing a kiss upon my forehead.

"Christine, no!"

"It will be night." She began, apparently ignorning me. "There will be less people around…"

"That is exactly what I worry about."

"It will be safe!"

"You cannot know that!"

"I must go." She said.

"It seems as though you have already decided upon your course of action, Christine."

"I have." She nodded, looking down slightly. "…But I will not go unless you tell me that it is alright."

"I cannot!"

"Please, Erik."

"Why are you acting as though I am denying you something out of convenience?" I asked, frustrated.

Now completely ignoring me, she leaned in and placed a kiss upon my lips. When she pulled away, seconds passed before I was able to speak.

"What was that in aid of?" I asked.

"Persuasion." She purred, moving toward me again.

"Christine Daae! How dare you try and use…" Paying little regard to my protestations she kissed me again. Of course, I did not pull away; instead, I accepted her mouth eagerly.

I stared at her before speaking breathlessly.

"You- you are very much aware of your affect on me and you cannot use…"

I inhaled sharply as she pressed her lips to my neck. I could not speak, only take short, ragged breaths as she made her way down to my collar bone and back up to my chin. It tickled in the most unbearable, yet delicious way and I found that while I wanted to move away, all I did was tilt my head back further; encouragement for her to continue.

_She needed to stop… _

_Did she?_

She placed small kisses along my jaw. I took desperate handfuls of the sheet beneath me as I felt the unmistakable sensation of her tongue against my skin.

"You..." I exhaled a ragged breath once more as she moved behind my ear. "You cannot do this, Christine…"

_Use me, manipulate me in a way that makes me want you more with each passing second._

"Yes, I can." She replied smugly as she breathed over my ear. At this I let out an audible moan and gripped the sheets harder. I could not let go of them. I knew that if I did, I would take hold of her, and that was far too dangerous given what she was doing to me.

"Will you allow me to visit her?" She asked as she placed gentle kisses on my ear.

"This is not fair." I breathed.

Again I felt her hot breath on my ear, sending my skin to gooseflesh beneath her. I began to smile as I felt her tongue border my ear, felt her teeth nibble ever so gently on my ear-lobe. It was unbearable, and yet so desperately _bearable. _I found myself frozen, eyes glued shut, never wanting it to end and yet I felt her hands holding me in place, as apparently I was pulling away.

"Allow me to go, Erik." She whispered. I made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan as I felt her tongue swiftly dip into my ear.

"Christine…" I growled.

Then, it stopped. I opened my eyes to find her sitting up, hands on my chest, giving me the most knowing, cunning smile I had ever seen upon her face.

"If you allow me to go, I will do that again when I return." She said.

I was exhausted and I was over-heated from what she had done, what I had _wanted _to do. I pushed the blankets down to my waist. And brought my hand to my forehead, exhaling as I did so; drained from the frustration she had caused me.

"Go." I said as I stared at the ceiling.

"I am glad for the change of heart." She said with a smile, running her hand over my stomach affectionately before standing up and walking away.

"Please be careful." I whispered.

It was utterly despicable for her to have used me in such a way but in truth, it was nothing short of glorious.

Every now and then I would be exposed to this side of Christine and as much as it shocked me I could not deny the fact that I was both beguiled and intrigued by it. She was mature, confident, dominant, sensual… everything that I once exuded, she now possessed. She knew exactly what she wanted and she knew exactly what to do to _me _to get it…

My weakness for this woman would be the death of me…

As soon as she had left I knew that I would have to follow her, injured or not.

* * *

**Please review, you lovely people!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Hello friends! I have received so many kind reviews for this story and I just wanted to take the time to tell you how much I appreciate each and every one of them! Again, apologies for the delay. Here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy it!**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

**Meg**

As soon as le Vicomte had left me I began to weep. The enormity of what I had done dawned on me; enveloping me like darkness and suffocating me as I stood at the end of the grand foyer with my head in my hands. Raoul had left to seek assistance. Soon he would return, and soon he would be on his way to destroy Christine's life and her chance at happiness. Regardless of what became of tonight, Christine would never forgive me. Regret flooded me as I stared at the entrance beside me, the place where I had seen Christine enter mere nights ago. What had I done? Christine had been my dearest friend for many years and out of childish jealousy I had threatened to rid her life of the happiness she deserved. Yes, she had known the success that I had always wanted but was she not talented? Did she not deserve it? Had she not worked for it? A true friend would be happy at Christine's success and would embrace it. And I _was. _And what of _him? _The man who had given her this success _and _given her this happiness? Who she chose to spend her time with was not my concern. She loved him!

Suddenly my mind was clear, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to right this wrong, I just hoped that it wasn't too late.

* * *

"Mother!" I cried as I approached her in the corridor near the sleeping quarters. "I need to speak with you!"

"Meg, my dear I was just heading downstairs for some dinner for the both of us. Where have you been?"

"Never mind that! I need to tell you something!"

Mother stared at me for a few disconcerting moments before quickly nodding and guiding me to another, less travelled corridor closer to the chapel.

"What is it Meg?"

As soon as she asked I covered my mouth with my hands and began to unabashedly weep.

"What is it?" She repeated, concern tainting the tone of her voice.

"I h-have done something t-terrible, mother." I wept. What would she think? Was a mother even capable of expecting something so wicked of her daughter? She took me by the shoulders and asked again.

"What is it?"

"You have to go." I wept. "Y-you have to go to them."

"What? Who?"

"Christine and… and him!"

"_Him?" _She cleared her throat._ "_Meg I don't know who…"

"I know who he is!" I cried, frustrated. "I know of Christine's... _relationship_ with him. You just... you must go to them!"

"…Why…" She eyed me cautiously. Perhaps she wasn't aware that I knew of the goings on of late. Likely not. It was She, Christine and _him. _I was not kept informed of anything. I never had been. Like a child. That was partly why I did it…

"Raoul knows." I replied, my voice low. "He knows where they are and… and h-he knows how to get there."

She released me and took a step back.

"Meg, what have you done?"

"I am sorry." Again, my tears began to flood my eyes. I looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "Mother, I am sorry. I know what I have done. I know." I glanced up. "You have to warn them. There is still time."

She looked at me then, wearing an expression I had never seen before. She was utterly disappointed in me, I could see that, but she looked at me as if I were a stranger… Perhaps I had acted as one.

"She… she said they were going to leave." She muttered.

"What?"

"Meg, why would you do this?"

"Raoul, he… he threatened me…"

She stared at me still.

"It does not matter. Go. Just go, mother. Please. You must fix what I have done. You must go now!"

She stared at me for a second longer before easing past me and striding down the corridor with purpose in her step.

* * *

**Christine**

My father. Madame Giry had known something about my father and had neglected to tell me. I was not upset. There was no time nor room to be upset when all I felt was overcome with excitement. My father had been the missing piece to the puzzle; all that was missing inside of _me_. Admittedly, Erik had filled that void and now that we had grown so close he had become much more than that, but I still missed my father. As I began my ascent, my mind began to swim with questions, with possibilities!

Surely he was alive? The letter had only been dated several months ago. Of course someone else could have written it for him, but what would that have been in aid of? He would not willingly deceive me, would not willingly lead me to believe something that was not truth. It _had _been his handwriting, although, how much of his written hand did I actually remember? How much of _him _would I have remembered if not for the small image of him in the chapel?

I was about to leave, about to begin my life with Erik, but what could this letter mean? What if Madame Giry did not have the answers I was seeking? I would be worse off than I was before the letter; at least then I had accepted him to be gone. I had said my goodbyes at the cemetery, or at least attempted to… I only hoped that I would find Madame Giry and the answers I needed without incident, and I hoped that Erik was alright back in his home.

I did not wish to leave him, did not wish to seek out the surface again given the danger that seemed to be increasing with each passing day, but this was my father and I _had _to go through with it. I knew that Erik understood that

When I reached Madame Giry's sleeping quarters I did not find what I expected to. Instead of my adoptive mother sitting on her divan, plaiting her hair as she often did, I found her daughter, Meg. She was curled up on the divan, weeping into her mother's cushions. Meg and I had not left things on good terms. When last we spoke we had found ourselves in an argument, therefore I was not quite sure how to approach her.

I knocked on the door tentatively.

She looked up, haphazardly wiping her eyes as she did so.

"Christine…" She spoke softly.

"Meg. What is wrong?"

"What are you doing here?" She asked. "Where is… _Erik?" _

She still struggled calling him by his name. It angered me.

"He is… in his home of course, I have… wait…" I stopped and studied her face briefly. "...Why are you asking me that?"

"Oh, Christine…" She began to weep again. "I am so sorry. I- I have done a terrible thing…"

"What have you done Meg?" I asked, slightly alarmed. She had done something to endanger Erik, I knew it before she had even spoken. I approached her, repeating what I had said. It came out as a demand, which was exactly what I'd intended. "What have you done?"

"You need to return to him, Christine…" She wept.

"Meg!" I took her by the shoulders. "_Tell me what you have done!" _

Meg looked up at me. She looked defeated. I had never seen her so distraught and yet I found that all I could focus on was what her answer would be. I knew what she had done. I knew it. She had betrayed me… but I needed to hear her say it.

"_Tell me!" _I demanded.

"_Raoul…_" She cried, holding my shoulders in return. She could barely control her sobs. _"He knows. He knows, Christine."_

Without speaking I released her and exited the room.

"I am sorry, Christine..." I heard her cry as I continued down the corridor.

I had to get to Erik before it was too late.

* * *

**Erik**

It was difficult to dress when my wound was screaming at every movement, but I had to ignore those protestations. I could not allow Christine to ascend without me, and even though the thought of her anger at what I was doing filled me with unease, I had to do it. Once, I told her that I would always be watching over her and Angel or not, I intended to stick to that declaration. I eased on a dress shirt and without bothering to tuck it in I slipped on one of my fine jackets that had been draped over a chair. I lifted up my shirt to look at my bandages and thick relief washed over me as I saw that nothing I had done had aggravated the injury too much; the stitches were intact.

Hastily I affixed my mask and wig, picked up my sword and left my home. I couldn't use my boat in the condition I was in, so I was forced to take one of the other passages leading in the same direction. Holding my wound with one hand and my sword in the other, I began toward the surface, only stopping to rest once I found myself at the very top of the spiral staircase.

I stood with my back to the wall and leaned against it, closing my eyes. Why hadn't I thought up an easier way? Of course, stairs were never usually a problem but when I found myself in situations such as this, which was fairly often, they proved tiresome. I found myself exhausted and in something close to agony. I was well acquainted with pain but one never really grows accustomed to it. I was sweating profusely, strange given that it was January.

I was beginning to doubt whether or not I actually possessed the strength required to finish the journey, when a loud and vexatious presence made itself known to me.

"There you are." Le Vicomte spoke. I looked up at him from where I stood, panting, leaning against the moist stone of the cavern. "Leaving so soon?"

Seeing him was always going to be a possibility. I knew that. He had been searching for me for weeks and I had no doubts that coming so close to ridding the world of me and failing had only fuelled his motivation. I only hoped that he had not come across Christine. Surely she had not been that far ahead of me?

"Monsieur." I began, standing straighter. I looked behind him to see that accompanying him was a member of the gendarmerie; an officer of the law. He was young, slender, and he looked quite terrified but it would complicate things nonetheless. "I was wondering when I might see you." I said, looking back at the boy. "Come to finish the job?"

"Precisely." He nodded before curling his lips into a sickly smile. "How _is _that wound of yours? Painful, I would wager."

"It should be worse, shouldn't it? I _should_ be dead, shouldn't I?" I asked smugly. "It _is_ a shame about your aim. Have you ever stabbed a man before? I would say not given the clumsiness of this." I gestured to where my hand lay on my stomach. "Vicomte… have you _killed _a man?" I challenged.

"No." He retorted with a smug smile that mirrored my own. "But you have."

I glared at him then, challenging him, my gaze was set unwavering upon his. Yes, I had. I had killed and he knew it. He knew it and he could see it in my menacing glare as he stood across from me. He had meant it as an insult, but it had only added to my arsenal, it only served to add to the power I exuded, the control I had over him, even standing there in my weakened state. I could have sworn that I saw him flinch after a few moments and so, satisfied, I continued.

"Well, I have somewhere to be…" I began, standing up fully, resisting the urge of bringing my hand to my wound as I did so. I hoped it wasn't bleeding from the exertion. I didn't want to give the _boy _the satisfaction of seeing it. "…So please tell me… Exactly how do you see this playing out, _boy?" _I spat.

"Isn't it obvious?" He replied after a dry chuckle.

"Apparently not." I gave the boy a smirk, actively aggravating him. "Please." I waved my hand in a formal gesture. "Indulge me."

"You will be arrested and hanged for your crimes."

The officer behind him shifted awkwardly.

"Ah." I smiled. "And in doing this, you will achieve… what? Christine's affections?"

"It is not about what I will achieve or gain from her. I am not selfish, as you are."

"No?"

"No! All _I _want is what is best for her, and that is to keep her away from _you." _

"You would sooner see me arrested than see her content." I scoffed. "And you claim to love her."

"I _do _love her! And she would love me in return if it were not for you!"

"You _cannot_ love her! It is clear in every action you take, every word you say! You cannot see past your own selfish pride! Love is selfless! Love is caring for another's safety above your own!" I took a breath; my wound was aching from the exertion.

"And who are _you_ to lecture me on such a thing? Yes, I know of your past." He let out another dry snicker. "Your own mother could not love you, and yet you assume that of Christine?"

I clenched my fists, tightening the grip on my sword. Then I spoke, my voice low.

"Do not speak of things you know nothing about, or you may find yourself unable to speak."

"Is that a threat?"

"It is a promise."

Raoul's eyes narrowed before he turned slightly to the young officer behind him and spoke.

"Arrest him."

The officer jumped, apparently not yet prepared to be spoken to or involved in what was happening.

"This is your grand plan?" I asked. "You want _him _to arrest me? _Me?_"

"There is only one way out of this." Was his reply.

"Yes." I nodded, looking down. Yes, there was. I could see that the only thing standing between Christine and the safety and peace of mind she wanted, was the man before me, and the one he had brought for assistance. I didn't want to kill them, but I needed to get to Christine before they did…

"Where were you headed? If you don't mind my asking." Le Vicomte asked cynically.

I narrowed my eyes.

"To Christine?" He asked. "Well, perhaps after this we should _all_ pay her a visit. I shall show her my prize."

"Your pride will be your undoing, _boy._"

"As will yours."

I stared at him then, in partial agreement for once. We were both proud men, we had that much in common. But I would not allow _my _pride to hinder Christine, she was too important to me.

"You will not go near her again, _Ghost. _Officer, arrest him!" Raoul repeated. He turned to the young officer who jumped again before slowly walking forward.

"Yes, Officer. Arrest me." I mocked, removing my sword from my belt and holding it beside me. One hand still covered my wound. At this the Inspector raised his pistol and continued to inch toward me.

"Be careful." Raoul warned as the small man approached me.

"You should take heed of le Vicomte's words. For once, he is talking sense."

The young man began to speak.

"You… you are under arrest…" He stammered. "F-for… for suspicion of murder."

"That is a strong claim to make." I spoke. "On what evidence are you making this charge?" It was cruel to toy with him as such. He was only a boy and he was only following orders. Once, I had done the same…

_And look at me now…_

As soon as the Officer was within my reach it was easy enough to flick the pistol out of his hand with the end of my sword. It fell into the black abyss formed by the spiral staircase beside me. At that, he drew his own sword and held it out before him. I watched as the Officer fumbled at his belt for a few moments before drawing his own sword and holding it out before him.

"Monsieur." I addressed the young man before me. "It is not my aim to hurt you, but believe me when I say that if you advance, you are not giving me any choice. Put down your sword and leave."

"Y-You are under arrest… you…"

"Use your head." I warned.

"I- I cannot leave. I have come to arrest you and…"

"Advance!" Raoul barked. "Arrest him!"

At once the man before me lunged at me, I blocked his attack and moved to the side.

"Very well." I said, slightly out of breath at the pain the movement had caused.

"Get out of the way!" Raoul ordered, pushing the young Officer to the side and bringing his sword down toward my head. With a grimace I parried and stepped to the side, away from the cascading stairs threatening to swallow us all whole. Again, Raoul lunged at me. I deflected his blow and struck his arm. He yelled and fell backward slightly. He brought his hand to his forearm and was enraged to find blood as he looked at his hand.

I was panting heavily. I was not unfit, but I was lacking energy, and pain every time I moved.

Upon recovery, Raoul pointed to me and smirked.

"It seems I did not even have to touch you!"

I looked down to see what he was referring to. My shirt was beginning to spot with blood. The stitches were breaking. Christine would not be happy.

"That_ does_ fill me with satisfaction." Raoul added.

"I'm glad." I spat.

He came at me again. I blocked several more of his attacks, barely possessing the strength to counter when he brought his sword down on top of me. My sword interlocked with his as I struggled to keep it from coming down upon my head. Normally, I would be much stronger than this man, but not now. We struggled for a few more moments before my wound screamed, forcing me to let go. I fell to my knees as the pain of Raoul's fist almost made me sick where I knelt. I clutched my hand to my stomach, the other still feebly holding onto my sword. I was now bleeding profusely from my wound.

"You are done. Submit to arrest." I heard a voice say. "Or perhaps I _should _just finish the job."

Without looking up I brought my sword across the side of his leg, immediately spilling blood. Raoul yelled and fell backward, holding his shin and cursing me. I rose up and stumbled back over to the wall that had given me the same support earlier.

Driven only by anger, Raoul rose as well, charging toward me with his sword held above his head. Again, I blocked the attack but again our swords were locked. This time I was weaker than before and slowly but surely, the sword was coming down…

"Arrest him!" Raoul yelled to the Officer who I had forgotten was present. "Help me!"

Shakily, the man approached, lunging at me. In my position, all I was able to do was lean to the side, and hope that his blade missed. It did not. While he did not land his attempted blow, I felt his blade slice my side, similar to where Buquet's had that fateful evening…

I yelled and with my remaining strength, I pushed Raoul's sword backward and clumsily throwing my blade in the direction of the young Officer. Before I could comprehend what was happening I felt a strong force push me backward, causing me to stumble and fall down two of the stairs beside me. It took everything I had to stop myself at two. In my state I was able to cling to the damp stone beneath me, effectively grazing my hands as I fell. I could not breathe. The pain was making me slightly delirious. Shakily, I pushed myself up so that I was half lying on the stairs beneath me. I coughed deeply as I looked down at my shirt, now hardly white at all.

"You are done." Raoul began as he limped toward me. I clutched at my wound, attempting to stem the blood flow and the pain.

Raoul picked up his sword, changing his grip on it as he stood over me, ready to deliver the killing blow. I took a pained breath, knowing that I was all but out of tricks. If he wanted to drive his blade into my heart I could not stop him. I thought of Christine, of the life we could have lived. I looked up at the man before me, his blade poised above my chest. I closed my eyes.

But then…

"Erik!" I turned to my side to see a familiar face. It was Madame Giry.

"Madame?" Raoul questioned, turning to her. "What are you doing here? Oh... you come to warn him?" He sneered. "Meg must have told you. Not very good at keeping secrets, is she? Truth be told, I did not think that she would keep her word to _me. _But that does not matter now. Her purpose has almost been entirely served."

"What have you done?" She asked, her hands clasped to her mouth. "Monsieur, I… I beg you to consider your actions."

"Why? So that he may live? Live, and steal Christine away from me? Away from us all? No! She deserves better than this!" He gestured to me before raising his sword higher.

"Monsieur, wait!" Madame Giry reasoned. I looked back at her. "You would not taint your good name with something like this, would you? Leave it to the court to decide his fate…"

"I cannot. I cannot chance it."

"He deserves a trial!"

"He deserves nothing!"

I knew what she was doing; She had no intention of turning me over to the authorities. She was attempting to talk him down, talk some sense into him. Weeks ago I would have had faith in her plan, but Raoul had changed. His mind had been warped by jealousy just as mine would have been had things gone differently. For that, I did not blame him. For the white-hot pain I was suffering with every breath, I was.

"Monsieur, it is the right thing to do. A man is nothing without his scruples. I _know _that you are a good man. I know it."

Raoul took a deep breath.

"I care not for your words, reasonable as they may be. I will bring this man to justice… but you are correct about one thing. I will need my good name for it and I will need it for Christine. To give her the life she deserves." He looked down at me then, scowling. "I will come back for you." He said.

I heard Madame Giry scream and before I could look at her, my mind was swimming with pain once more. I yelled in agony as Raoul brought his blade across my chest, slicing me open. It was not fatal. He knew that. He had done it for pure enjoyment. It felt deep, the worst I had received in a long time, aside from his previous gift.

Another scar to add to the collection. How grim.

It took all I had not to continue to cry out in pain as he walked away from me. I couldn't move. Not like this. It would be impossible. He had known that when he had struck me. I held my chest with one hand and my stomach with the other, blood streaming over my fingers as I did so.

I must have lost consciousness briefly for in seconds, Madame Giry was at my side, asking me questions.

"M-madame…" I managed as she approached me.

"Erik…" She knelt down. "My God! Are you alright? You… there is so much blood! _What can I do?" _She pressed her hand to my chest as she began to weep. I wanted to do the same.

"It… It isn't a first, Madame." I managed. She nodded. She knew that. "Chris… Christine…" I breathed. "Did you s-see her…?"

"Christine? N-no… the last time I saw her was when I gave her the supplies to leave. She said that the two of you were leaving. Come, we must go!"

I nodded.

"We were…" I looked up at her with a grimace. "Y-you have not seen her?"

"No." She shook her head. "We have to move you…" She repeated.

"Erik!" We both looked to the top of the stairs to see Christine. Her eyes were wide, her hands brought to her mouth just as Madame Giry's had been.

"Chris…tine." I managed with a weak smile.

"_What happened to you!?" _She cried as she ran toward me.

"Raoul…" Madame Giry answered for me.

"Are you… were you stabbed? What has happened!? Erik! Please…"

"It… it is not fatal… Christine… Only…"

"Painful." She answered with a sweet smile, gently stroking my face.

I nodded.

"Christine, Raoul is returning." Madame Giry began. "He would have killed Erik if I hadn't told him to arrest him instead! He will return shortly, we have to leave now!"

I was glad that she was there to talk for me; I was in far too much pain. My head was swimming with it.

"Erik…" Christine began, seemingly she hadn't heard what her adoptive mother had said to her. Instead she was peering over my body at another, lying several feet away from me. "Who is that?"

I turned to look. It was the young Officer. I had forgotten about him during Raoul's attack…

"Christine…" I began. "He… He attacked me I… I did not mean to…" I hadn't meant to. The last action like this had almost torn Christine and I apart and I had promised never to kill again. I felt sick. I looked to Christine before turning back to the body. He was surely dead. I had simply struck blindly and in the confusion, had delivered a killing blow. His neck was covered in blood. It had stained his uniform and was slowly dripping down to cover the stairs below him. He was just a boy and I had killed him… "I… Christine, I am so sorry…"

Christine held her mouth. She looked as though she was going to be sick. I wanted to weep. The disappointment in her face, the pain… _everything. _It was all too much.

"I'm… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." I managed, looking down with tears in my eyes.

"Don't… do not worry about it now, Erik." Christine began. "You would not have done it unless you had to. The important thing now is moving you from here."

Taking one last, worried glance at my bloodied body, she set to work. Just as she had done in the cemetery, she tore away a piece of her dress, and while Madame Giry helped me to sit up slightly, Christine pulled the piece of fabric around my body and tied it tightly, applying pressure to my wound. I yelled as she did so but with nothing more than a grimace, she carried on dutifully.

"Christine, his chest is…" Madame Giry began. Christine looked up at her before looking down at me and peeling away the thick, once fine fabric of my shirt, now completely red. She gasped as her eyes were met with my torn flesh.

"It is alright…" I said, attempting to soothe her. It was not alright, but I did not want to upset her. It was the last thing I wanted and yet it kept happening.

"Do you want me to…" Madame Giry took Christine's hand.

"No." She replied tersely. "No, I will do it."

* * *

**Christine**

This was my fault, after all. How could I have allowed this to happen to Erik? He would claim that the fault was not mine, but it _was_. I was putting him through so much pain and I loathed every second of it.

"Did you see Raoul, Christine?" Madame Giry asked.

"No…" I replied. "But because of me,_ Erik_ had to."

"Christine…" Erik breathed. He spoke slowly. "Do not blame yourself. Please."

"Who else can I blame, Erik?" I replied, tearing off more of my dress to wrap around his chest. It was a mystery to me that he was able to speak at all given his state. I would have been a mess. He yelled and his wound oozed blood as I tied the second piece of fabric around him. "We should have just left! You wanted to leave. I am so sorry that this happened to you." I placed a kiss on his lips that he returned. Briefly and absentmindedly but that was understandable.

"Christine…"

"I know. I know. Let us just… talk later. Now, we need to move." I said, smiling down at him. "And don't tell me that you cannot because there is not another option!"

"I know…" He breathed. "I am… more afraid of y-your wrath than… the pain." He smiled weakly.

"So you should be!" I teased. "Alright, you just hold onto your wounds and Madame and I will try to lift you." I glanced at the woman beside before turning back to Erik. "This is going to hurt."

He nodded in agreement and set his jaw.

"Alright." He said.

With that we lifted him up. He was incredibly heavy and his protestations made me want to stop at every moment but I knew that I could not. Madame Giry picked up the torch left by the Policeman as we walked past him. I could not help but stare as we did. I wished that he was alive. Seeing him lying there upset me greatly. What if he'd had a family? A mother? A lover? They would never see him again. He was dead and the man in my arms was responsible… but if he had harmed Erik, attacked Erik as he had said, then it was different. It was wrong and it was hard to accept but I was simply glad that it had not been Erik lying there on those steps with his throat agape… I turned away and continued forward.

* * *

The walk down to Erik's home was torturous. For him, of course… but for me also. He could not put his arms around Madame Giry and myself and I could not touch him anywhere in support that did not bring him pain. I had to hold his arm and hope that it would be enough. After several minutes of journey down the spiral staircase, it became too much for him.

"Stop, wait. I need to stop." He spoke.

"Erik, we cannot!"

"I know, but…"

"I know that you are in pain, but you must push yourself! We can rest at the bottom of the staircase." I moved in front of him slightly and took his face in my hands. "You can do this." I began, placing a kiss on his lips. "You have the strength to do this. I know you do."

He offered me a weak smile.

There was blood on his face and mask; no doubt they were smudges from his hands that were covered in it, and he was sweating profusely. Gently, I removed his mask and wig.

"You will be more comfortable without these." I said. I felt his hand jerk to stop me but he did not follow through, only looked down as I did so. Madame Giry also looked down, shifting uncomfortably where she stood.

"I doubt that." He said quietly. Placing my hand under his chin I tilted his head up so that his gaze would meet mine. His thin, copper hair was slicked with sweat, as was his face and I knew that he would feel better without the mask and wig covering them.

"You can do this, my love." I said. Madame Giry glanced at me awkwardly, before allowing a shy smile to cross her features. She had known of Erik and I, but she had never seen us together. Not before tonight. It all must have seemed quite strange to her, quite foreign.

With a curt nod from Erik we were on our way again. I was truly beginning to worry for him.

_We will stitch you up as soon as we reach your home. _

_As soon as we get there. _

_We will get there soon._

_We will arrive soon and you will be fine._

_Everything will be fine._

I repeated the words over and over again in my head and I assume that he was doing the same, for I hadn't a clue how else he had made it as far as he had. Where was he drawing _his_ strength from?

"Does Raoul know how to get to Erik's home?" Madame Giry began as we set Erik down against the wall. We had decided to allow him a short rest halfway down the staircase.

"Presumably not. Meg could not have known could she?"

"Then Raoul will not know. The only reason he was able to get as far as he had was due to _her_…"

There was a moment of silence between us. It was as if each of us wanted to apologise to the other on Meg's behalf. She, as her mother, and I as her sister. We had both failed her greatly in order for such betrayal to have occurred. There was no other explanation.

"…But we cannot stay there anymore." I continued, a moan from Erik knocking me from my reverie. "After we sew Erik's wounds… or after _I _sew his wounds, we must leave."

"Christine, you must _know _that I will stay and assist you with whatever you need." She touched my face affectionately to which I smiled guardedly. "Where will you go?"

"I do not know. We… hadn't fully planned it. I suppose that we thought we had more time."

"Don't we all?" Madame Giry mused. "Come, we must make haste with him. He is still losing blood." With that, we picked up a disgruntled Erik and continued toward his home.

What of my father? That would have to wait.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think :)**


	29. Chapter 29

**Hello! Thank you so much for the reviews of the previous chapter! I try to reply to a lot of them, but some of you submitted them as guests, which is fine but I wasn't able to reply and tell you how appreciative I was. They were all amazing and I just wanted to thank you all for that :) Ok without further ado, here is chapter 29. Please let me know what you think! Your input really does help!**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

**Erik**

I had to keep my mind focused on the sounds around me as I descended; the scuffing of my boots on the well travelled stone beneath me, Madame Giry's hushed tones from my right, and my love's concerned voice from my left. I had lost much blood, but the problem was the pain. Of course I would not allow those around me to _know _my pain, but it _was _there. Each step had me imagining my flesh tearing open, my stomach wound oozing blood as I walked. I had always had a vivid imagination. It is a requirement of one who does not venture outside of his home for months at a time, and also a requirement of a designer. Usually it acted as my aid, but not tonight. Imagining it only threatened to add nausea to my list of complaints.

"Christine…" I grimaced.

"Erik, you shouldn't talk." She replied, her voice anxious.

"Talking is what I _must _do. Tell me something… _anything._"

Christine looked to Madame Giry nervously.

"Ahh… I don't…" She looked down. "What to say…?"

"We have not had problems with conversation in the past." I managed. "Tell me something interesting."

"Like what?"

"Anything, Christine." My tone sounded harsher than I had intended, so I offered her a warm glance following my clumsy words. "Something about you… I assure you that whatever you say, I will find captivating."

She thought for a moment, then a smile came to her lips as she spoke.

"Sometimes, I enjoy eating food upside down…" She smiled.

"What?!" I scoffed. "What does that mean? You stand on your head?"

"Oh! Look who is becoming humorous!" She teased after an awkward laugh. "I mean so say, _some _foods; tarts or… bread with jam, I eat them upside down. That way the flavour hits my tongue before the dull part."

I looked at her in stupefaction for a moment before reacting. I could not help but laugh outwardly at what she had told me, something I immediately regretted due to the pain it caused.

"Christine, that is bizarre! But I did not mean for you to tell me something that would make me laugh." I said. "I am in enough pain as it is."

"That was _not _my intention." She replied, seemingly annoyed at my reaction. "And there is nothing _bizarre _about it."

I heard a guarded snicker escape Madame Giry, but she quickly covered her mouth in order to disguise it.

"Clearly not." I said. In spite of my pain I could not help but find enjoyment in the moment, simply speaking with Christine and learning about her. After the drama that had ensued recently, it was a gloriously domestic moment and I was truly cherishing it. We walked on for several more minutes like this, Christine and I discussing trivial matters, Madame Giry remaining silent save for the occasional comment or laugh.

Then, something happened. It all changed. In a single moment the perfect harmony was destroyed and hope was lost. I do not know why I had not expected it. I do not know why my intuition or keen sense of hearing had not alerted me to what was about to happen. If I had only turned around sooner, if we had only walked faster, perhaps things would have been different.

The conversation ended abruptly. Suddenly I felt both a shift in weight and an absence of warmth on my left side.

Madame Giry cried in both surprise and horror. Slightly forgetting herself _and _failing to hold my weight alone, she faltered and I fell to the cold ground. I did not need to ponder long on what had happened.

My support was taken from me.

Christine was taken from me.

I looked up from my place on the cold stairs and immediately my eyes fell on his pistol, Raoul was gripping it tightly, holding it up in the air as an unspoken threat. To my horror he was holding Christine tightly, his fingers curled around her small arm with a vice-like grip that made me want to break each of them, one by one.

How had he found a pistol and returned so quickly? Perhaps one of the many gendarmes patrolling the Opera had assisted him. Why had they not accompanied him as they had prior?

"Erik…" My angel whimpered, shaking her head as if it were all _her _fault. I wanted to hold her.

"Do not _touch_ her!" I yelled in rage, attempting to sit up and failing with a pained yell.

"Or what, _Erik?!" _He mocked.

"You will regret it, _Vicomte!" _I spat.

"Monsieur…" Madame Giry began, walking toward him. Raoul held the pistol out before him, stopping her where she stood. She glanced at me and I met her gaze. But she stood before him just as helpless as I.

"Please. Do not do anything foolish!" She reasoned.

"That is not in my nature, Madame. I am taking Christine with me tonight." He switched his grip on Christine, holding her across the shoulders, his arm dangerously close to her neck. I could imagine he and I in a similar position. My arms locked around his throat, squeezing tighter… tighter…

"I do not plan to hurt anyone…" He continued. "…But if…"

"No! Let go of me!" Christine struggled.

"Do not _dare _harm her!" I warned. I attempted to make my threat as deadly as possible, difficult when lying on the ground.

"Do not make this arduous, Christine, or I will seek to make things arduous for your friend!" He gestured to me. "…More so." He added with a smirk. I wanted to kill him.

"No!" Christine cried, roughly pulling at Raoul's arm. "No! Don't!" She turned to me. "Erik, it is alright. I will go with him!"

"Christine!" I began, my voice desperate. I shifted where I was, still somewhat sprawled out on the ground where I had fallen. "How can you expect me to allow this?" How was it that she was acceding so easily? And she wanted me to do the same!

"You _must_."

"…but… Christine…" We had been so close, _so _close to beginning our life together but just like everything else that was good in this world, everything that was pure and perfect and right, I was allowed no part in it.

"I will be alright!" She repeated. "And you will… you will think of something. You always do." She seemed hesitant, unsure. Brimmed with doubt, her words sent a chill through me. What if I did not 'think of something?' What if I _could _not? I looked up at Raoul. "If you _hurt _her…" I rasped.

"I would _never _hurt her." Raoul responded with haste. Strangely, something in his eyes told me that he spoke the truth.

"Then what is that for?" Madame Giry cried, pointing at the pistol in his hand. I had forgotten she was there, so concerned was I for Christine.

Raoul turned to the woman beside me.

"This? This is not for her!" He looked at the pistol in stupefaction before pointing it at me. "This is for _him! _If she tries to escape with him! I would _never _hurt her." He repeated.

I thought nothing of the action, I had had pistols poised at me in the past, but perhaps he _would _never hurt her, not physically. The sentiment filled me with ease, but regardless, he _was_ taking her from me and that was enough. My gaze bore into him but it faltered slightly upon hearing his words. He loved her. That much was clear, but if that were the truth, why would he put her through such an ordeal? It angered me. _He _angered me. And yet I was submit to him the only light in the darkness that was my life, the only person who had ever loved me. I took a painful breath before acceding to my aggressor.

"What am I to do?"

"Erik, no!" Christine cried. I received a confused glance from Madame Giry. Seemingly neither of them could comprehend what I was doing. Nor could I.

Raoul smiled. Not an innocent, boyish smile that I had seen on him months ago and that would have suited his age, features and sensibility, but a crude smile; wicked. It angered me further.

"You are to turn yourself in to the Gendarmerie."

My stomach dropped.

Of course.

How could I have expected anything less from him?

I saw Christine struggle away from Raoul upon hearing his words and it was difficult to watch.

"No!" She cried. "Raoul, you cannot be so cruel! Erik, you cannot! Just go! Leave now." She turned to the woman beside me. "Madame, please, take him and go!" The tears that had begun as clouds in her eyes were now streaming down her face, and the sound of her pained voice cut through me. It broke my heart to watch and _listen _and know that I could do nothing.

Raoul continued.

"Surely you are aware of the fact that they have been seeking your whereabouts ever since Buquet?"

I nodded. I could not recall a time in my life that did not involve pursuit, the law, or a combination of the two. I sneered up at him. He smiled at me. He was proud of his plan. That much was evident on his pugnacious face. He had bested me and he knew it. It would mean the end of me and it would mean the end of the life Christine and I had planned… but I had to accede. For Christine's sake, I had to. Perhaps later I could think of a plan, perhaps not, but for the moment it was the only way that I could assure Christine's happiness.

"How long do I have?" I asked, struggling to hold myself up where I sat.

"Erik, no!" Christine cried.

"A week." He said plainly.

I nodded again. It was fair. I would have some time to recover before I was subject to whatever the law saw fit to put me through for my crimes. More importantly, I would have time to think of a way to avoid that and rescue Christine. I scoffed inwardly. Rescue? When did the villain become the hero? But I would _be_ a hero for Christine, or I would be the villain again if she asked it of me. I would be whatever she needed.

"Why can't you just let us be!?" Christine cried. She brought her hand up to slap Raoul in the face. The sound seemed to echo through the caverns. Madame Giry gasped, shocked, but I could not help but smile. It had had little effect on her captor but I had enjoyed seeing it nonetheless and I daresay that Christine had enjoyed doing it.

"Christine!" Raoul responded, rubbing his cheek irritably. He pointed at me. "He is a murderer! Am I the only one who can see any sense? I am not being outrageous in suggesting that he turn himself in for a crime he most definitely committed! I am not!" He took her by the shoulders then, shaking her slightly and my blood began to boil. "If he loves you, he will do the right thing! And if he does that, you will be free Christine. Free to be on your own… _or _be with me…"

"I would _never _be with you! Not after all you have done! And not after this life I have lived with Erik. I know how I _should_ feel, and how I _want_ to feel, and _you _could never compare!"

For a moment, retaliation looked imminent on Raoul's behalf, perhaps violence, but instead he simply scowled.

"Come, it is time to leave." He said, roughly pulling her up the stairs after him.

"Christine…" I called weakly. Suddenly the situation became real. Raoul's snide comments did not matter, nor did my smart retorts. This was not about anything other than Christine and she was slipping away. I was not ready for her to leave, to leave me. "Christine." I repeated.

"Monsieur, no!" Madame Giry protested. "Where are you taking her!?"

Raoul ignored her.

"Wait, Raoul! Please… just _wait!" _She commanded. He stopped and looked at her.

"Wait for _what, _Christine?"

"Let me say goodbye to him." She wept. "If you are taking me away, that is all I can ask of you. Allow me some words with him. If you have any love for me at all…"

"You _know _that I do." He replied softly.

"Then _please." _

Raoul looked to me, then to Madame Giry before turning back to Christine. He was terribly disgruntled by it all, but like me he could not deny Christine something she asked. He nodded solemnly.

Immediately, Christine rushed to me, falling beside me on the stairs and embracing me tightly. As I held her, I looked to Raoul who had raised his pistol toward me.

"Try anything at all and you will not even _make it _to the gallows."

I did not respond, simply eyed him. I had no energy for arguing and it would not help the situation. Did he honestly think that I would be careless enough to try _anything _when it could put Christine in danger? The barrel of the pistol was staring me in the face but it would be only to easy for him to miss and…

"I love you!" She wept into my marred cheek, derailing my thoughts.

"I love you, Christine."

God, I did.

"You cannot turn yourself in. Please tell me that you have a plan!"

"I do not." I spoke into her curls. "Not yet."

"And if you do not come up with one?" She asked, pulling away, her hand on my cheek.

I shook my head and shrugged as much as injury would allow.

"What? What does that mean!?"

"I do not know, Christine. If I have to turn myself in so that you can be free of him, I will do it. It seems the simplest option."

"It is _not _an option!"

I said nothing.

"Erik!" She shook me, sending a wave of pain through my lacerated torso. I grimaced but she did not seem to care. "If you give up, what am I to do?! What am I to hold onto? What is the point!?"

"Do not speak like that!" I said, holding my chest and bracing myself in case she decided to lose her temper again. "Do you not think that I would do everything possible to fix this!? To make you happy?"

"It is not about me! It is about us! All that matters to me is us! Don't you understand? If you are taken, I should just stay with Raoul, as there will be no point in doing otherwise!"

Was that sarcasm? From Christine?

"You do not mean that." I spoke.

"I do not _want _that!" She retorted

"What do you _want?"_

_"I want you!" _She cried. I saw Raoul shift uncomfortably behind her, but he did not speak, nor did he start toward us. Perhaps there was some decency left inside him or perhaps he knew that he had already won…

"You cannot give up!" She wept.

Give up…

No, I would not give up, not on the inside. I would forever pine after the woman who held my heart, but perhaps that was all I could do. I was beginning to see the many factors working against us. I could not even walk and I could see that the chance of actually being able to rescue Christine was slim at best. Even if I healed faster than humanly possible, how ever would I find her in my condition? Scale the walls of Raoul's estate? Avoid or defeat any guards he may have only to face Raoul one final time before rescuing Christine her from her tower? It sounded like something out of an adventure novel I had read. Not something viable for just one man in the real world! No matter what, I would have to turn myself in in order to free her. One final act of selflessness inspired by love and then it would be over. No, not an adventure novel, more like a Shakespearean tragedy! That would be more apt for someone like me.

"It is hopeless, Christine." I admitted.

"The man I knew would not speak like that." She spoke, clearly disappointed. "I do not know when I will next be able to say this…" She added, her voice thick with emotion. "Erik, I love you."

I looked down, tears now welling in my own eyes. A foreign, yet warmly familiar instinct told me to cover my face, and so I brought my bloodied hand to my cheek and looked up at her once more.

"Christine, why do you love me? How is it that you _can_? How is it that you are able to put such faith in me when…"

"Why would you ask me that?"

"I… don't know." I wiped my tears haphazardly, ashamed of them. Then my hand found my deformity and covered it once more. I was ashamed of myself, ashamed that I needed to ask those questions and ashamed of the life that had motivated them.

"Erik…" She took a deep breath. "You still doubt me?"

"I doubt myself." And that would not be quick to change.

"Listen to me. If you want to know, I shall tell you." I saw her glance up at Raoul, perhaps testing whether or not he would allow her enough time. I hated that he would be so near to hear our conversation, but part of me did not care. I focused on the woman before me. "You are _not _the easiest person in the world to love, and not because of your face!" Gently, she pulled my hand away from my face and continued. "You can be short tempered and sarcastic and self-absorbed and… simply frustrating! But you can also be _so _loving, caring, and passionate." Several more tears escaped her eyes and she sniffed but she was smiling. She let out a small laugh as she continued. "You can be snarky and devious but, sometimes you let your guard down completely and there is this happy, innocent child that I see… I don't think that you are altogether aware that you let me see him. But sometimes he is there, in a smile or a laugh when you forget yourself; forget who you are now or, at least who you make yourself out to be. You can be serious, protective, intense, playful… there are so many facets to you, Erik and I am so glad that you have allowed me to see them, to know you. I know there are more and I want to be able to learn those too… and… I am certain that we will have a lifetime together to achieve that." She touched my face gently and I leant into her hand as she spoke. How could I live without her touch?

Christine continued.

"You can make me feel like a queen with a simple touch or glance, and I know that you would do anything in your power to make me happy and keep me safe because you are doing it right now. I love you because you love me, but I love you because of _who you are. _Who you _really _are." I reached up and wiped her tears, ignoring my own and everything else around me. "Your heart is so full. There is a lifetime of love inside you that you were never able to let out and I see it when I look at you. I see it in your eyes, and when you look at me."

I choked a sob and pulled her into an embrace. I had heard enough. My heart could not bear any more of her words. She spoke the truth, she saw through me, and though it terrified me that someone could love me that much, could _know _me that much, it made me love her more desperately than I had ever conceived possible. But she would soon be taken from me. I could not let that happen. How could I have allowed myself to give up hope? Even for a mere moment?

"I love everything about you and I am so sorry that it has taken this long for me to tell you." She cried into the crook of my neck.

"Christine…" I choked. "Thank you."

We held one another there on the stairs. Tears mingled with blood. Love and lust mingled with passionate longing and an agony, aching and deep within my chest, deep below the surface wound the silly boy had inflicted upon me. To lose Christine would be unbearable. She wanted _us _above her own happiness, and selfishly, so did I. I would have to think of a way for us. I would have to.

She pulled away and our lips met. The kiss was as passionate and longing as our first had been. Not in any way chaste or apprehensive because though we were both determined to be together, a niggling voice in each of our heads told us that it could be our last. Christine pulled away first, holding my face in both hands she spoke words that threatened to stop my heart right there on the cold, stone steps.

"You are the love of my life." She said. "You are my destiny, and I know that we will be together, one way or another…"

I choked back another sob, crushing her to my chest with ferocity that made my wounds scream but I ignored them. I could not weep. Not fully. We had tasted each other's tears but I could not entirely submit myself to emotion, not yet. I had to be strong for Christine.

"Yes." I managed. "We will. I love you." I whispered. "With all that I am."

She placed a kiss on my neck, a return of my declaration. I closed my eyes and held her, relishing in the otherworldly comfort, warmth, and contentedness I would have to go without for some time.

"Come." Raoul spoke after clearing his throat. "It is time to leave, Christine."

He seemed vexed somehow, and not by our performance or declarations. He was almost… remorseful?

"Come." He repeated.

Even now, I was not prepared to let her go, but I would see her again. I had to tell myself that. I would hold her again, be held by her again and kissed by her again.

"I love you." I repeated. "You must go. You must."

She nodded through tears.

"I know." She cried, placing several kisses on my lips as she begrudgingly pulled away. "I know." She repeated. "Please, be safe." She looked at Madame Giry. "Look after him…"

"Of course." The woman beside me spoke.

Christine looked back to me. Immediately, I pulled her into a final, tender kiss.

"I live for your kiss." I whispered.

"Well stay alive, for there are many more to come."

I smiled, a reward for her attempt to make light of the situation.

"Farewell, my love." She said, standing up.

"For now." Was my reply.

"Come." Raoul spoke quietly, holding his arm out to her.

"Do not speak to her like that." I snarled as he climbed the stairs with Christine. "And how do I know that you will keep to your word?"

"You do not. But if I had wanted to, I would have ended your story here tonight."

"And why haven't you? You have your name, you do not want that tainted, but you would have killed me down here. No one would have known."

"Erik, stop." Christine warned.

"Yes Erik. Stop." Raoul mocked. "Do not tempt me."

"Why have you not simply arrested me? Why are you giving me this time?"

"Out of charity for Christine." He snapped, not meeting my gaze. "That is all."

Beguiled by his response, I said nothing, only gave Christine a reassuring smile as she climbed the stairs to the surface… away from me.

Then, she was gone.

Just like that.

"What have I done!?" I growled as soon as they were out of sight, rolling onto my back with my head in my bloodied hands. "How could I have let her go?"

"You had no choice." Madame Giry approached me. "Come, we must continue our journey. Christine has instructed me that I must take care of you and I do hope that you will not knowingly make things difficult for me, as is usually your prerogative. Let me help you to stand."

I lacked the energy or heart for a sarcastic comment and so she received merely a grunt for her efforts, but I complied. I yelled as my wounds, attempting to close were once more stretched open.

"I hate him." I grumbled as we continued to walk. A child's statement but I was tired, hungry and in pain and so I did not care to mask my emotion.

"She loves you." She said. I looked up at her. Perhaps she had not heard me.

"She really does."

"Yes." I mused. This, I knew. Finally, I knew - too late. "But I have lost her."

_And I want to die._

"Not yet."

"I have failed her."

"You haven't!"

"I should have just done as she told me. I should have stayed where she left me… but I had to follow her. It is my fault!" I allowed myself to fall into the stone wall beside me and remained there, using its strength to keep from falling.

"You followed her to keep her safe."

"She is gone… She is _gone!" _A sob escaped me, and it left me feeling even more pathetic than I already did. Nothing brought me to tears, none but Christine. Madame Giry embraced me then and I wanted nothing more than to hide or die from the shame.

"No. Don't." I said, looking away from her and shifting uncomfortably.

"Erik, it is alright."

"You… you should not have to see me like this." I hated that she was.

"I have seen you worse." She said. It was true, she had, but that was when I was a boy. Long before this persona had overcome me and had proceeded to dictate my life. She had saved me once. She had brought me here and though it was a debt I could never repay, as the years wore on I withdrew further within myself and spoke to no one. That was, until Christine had found me above the stage on that fateful night and changed my life, changed _me._

This woman had been the vessel through which I had controlled the Opera, she had inspired the fear felt by the occupants, she had helped create the mystery that was my persona. But I had not spoken to this woman since she had found her way into my home upon the start of my courtship with Christine. Before that, it had been through letters only. I had not spoken to her in person in months and it had been years since we had shared a proper conversation - therefore being in such a domestic setting with her was beyond awkward.

But as she held me tighter it became increasingly difficult to resist complete surrender to my emotions. I wanted to weep shamelessly for what had been taken from me, as hard as I had the night of Buquet's murder. The murder that Raoul was using as leverage now...

But I would not. It would do no good and it would be wasted time. I had to come to terms with the fact that she was gone, and the fact that I was the only person capable of righting that.

"You have." I spoke, a delayed response to Madame Giry's words. I looked at her. "But I was a boy then. Christine needs a man."

"And I believe she has one."

I smiled guardedly before pushing myself off the wall and with Madame Giry's help, continuing toward my home.

* * *

**Christine**

"I _hate _you." I sneered, snatching my arm away from him after a few minutes of walking.

"Christine, please. Do not be like that!"

"You are taking me against my will. I can _be _however I wish!"

"Chris…"

"_Why _are you _doing_ this to me?! You claim to love me?"

"I _do _love you!"

"You would have me leave him like that? Bleeding to death on the stairs for your own gratification? Do you know what would happen to me if you should end his life? I would die, Raoul. I would be no more. Perhaps if you loved someone as much as you _claim _to love me, you might understand that."

"Taking you like this is the only way to show you who the better man is."

I stopped walking, as did he.

"Raoul, he would _never _do this. He would _never _put his needs or wants over mine. I am happy with him! Can you not see that? Why can you not just accept that?" I pushed him roughly and he staggered backward slightly, but did not react. "I will _never _love you. Going through with this will ensure that!"

"Christine! For the last time, he is a murderer!"

"And if this all goes the way you wish it to, that is exactly what you will be." His gaze met mine. "So tell me Raoul, who will be the '_better' _man then?"

Raoul looked down. He did not speak.

I looked behind me. I missed Erik. _Already, _I missed him.

* * *

**Do you hate me? Hopefully not. Please let me know your thoughts! **


	30. Chapter 30

**Erik**

I do not recall how I made it back to my home. I had done so with the assistance of Madame Giry, of course, but all I had been thinking on was Christine. I was using the thought of her to relieve my mind of the pain, both physical and psychological, to relieve my mind of _everything. _It was only once we had arrived back in my home that it began to overcome me.

Madame Giry helped me to the same bed that had been my prison for the past few days, but this time upon lying down I felt no relief. No sense of accomplishment. No ease whatsoever. For the last time I had been helped into this bed, Christine had been with me. But she was gone, and until I recovered I could do little about that. Perhaps I could do little about it either way.

As soon as Madame Giry had lowered me onto the bed, she stood up and looked at me.

"You will see her again." She said sternly, smoothing her skirts as she spoke.

"Perhaps." I replied, not meeting her gaze. "…In chains."

"We do not know that!" She snapped. "Come. We have to see to your wounds… where is the…"

"The needle is here, by the bed. Everything is just where Christine left it when she returned from seeing you earl…" I looked down. "When she returned earlier." I said softly. Was it the same day? A different day? Who knew?

"Alright." She replied tenderly. She was a stern woman, but she was treating me differently due to my new fragility. As she sat down I unbuttoned my shirt, or what was _left _of my shirt. That boy practically owed me an entire wardrobe by now. This was the second dress shirt he had destroyed and my dress shirts did not come cheap.

I turned away, disinterested as she inspected the slash across my chest. Ordinarily I might have been perturbed by her closeness and the easy, domestic carelessness with which she was treating me. Tonight I could not care. I was slightly uneasy about it but my mind was on other things like how I would even begin to make my way back to Christine.

"You don't have to…" I offered.

"They have both stopped bleeding thankfully." She spoke, ignoring my words. "How are you feeling now?"

I scoffed.

"I mean the pain." She said irritably.

"I am aware." I said softly. "There is pain."

She nodded.

"Well, your chest will not need stitches." She began. I knew that it wouldn't. I had had enough wounds to know what would heal itself and what would not. "…but I shall have to clean it." She continued. "Alright?"

I nodded, still not meeting her gaze.

"Have you any Iodine?" She asked, searching through the miscellaneous items Christine had left by the bed. I shook my head. She clicked her tongue irritably and continued searching for a few moments, before picking up an item and holding it out before me.

"Carbolic acid?" She asked.

I nodded.

"I have some iodine in my quarters, it would be less painful… or at least that is what Meg tells me. I could…"

"The acid will suffice, Madame."

"Are you sure…?"

"It does not matter!" I snapped.

She huffed.

"Erik, there is no need for that! I know that you are upset but…"

"Upset? _Upset?! _I am angry! I am filled with a murderous _rage,_ Madame! And you know better than anyone the result of that rage!" Was I tempting her? Challenging her? I did not know.

"Is that a threat?" She asked.

I took a deep breath.

"No." I brought my hand to my head in frustration. "No, it is not."

She offered an empathetic nod before unscrewing the cap of the bottle in her hand.

"Do you have a rag or something I might use to…"

"Just pour it on."

She laughed nervously.

"Just pour it on." I repeated. "I need to heal as quickly as possible, correct?"

"You are making this easy for me." She smirked. I knew that she was referring to my attitude, but I could not change that. Not when I was in so much pain and not when Christine was so far away from me.

"Ready?" She asked.

"Yes."

With that she poured the liquid over my torso and I was met with the same blinding pain I had experienced upon Christine completing the same action. I grasped the sheets beneath me and grimaced deeply but I did not cry out. As much as this woman had done for me, she was not Christine and I could not entirely be myself around her, could not entirely let my guard down. There was still a very real barrier between us. I could feel it when she was near me, could hear it when she spoke to me, could see it in her eyes. Perhaps with time spent together that would change. But though she was one of the few people who knew me as Erik, to her, I was still very much the Phantom of the Opera.

"I thought you might lose consciousness." She mused.

I shook my head dejectedly. I could imagine how pathetic it might have looked…

She cleaned the wound on my chest and bandaged it without a word before moving to my stab wound, now – open once more.

"Thank you." I said. She looked up at me in surprise.

"You're welcome…" She said hesitantly.

"You sound shocked." I remarked, watching her as she prepared the needle.

"I am not..."

"You are." I argued, a smile hinting at my lips. "I may lack common social skills… perhaps even sanity, but for reasons unbeknownst to me I do possess common courtesy. Although God knows… nothing of courtesy is common in this world."

She scoffed.

"Yes, well. Christine had to have seen _something _in you after all." She looked up at me with a sly smile that told me not to take offense.

"Oh, yes. She must have fallen in love with me due to my perfect manners!"

Madame Giry laughed, but I did not. Too taken was I with what I had just said aloud. I had just spoken of Christine's love for me. It was the first time I had voiced it. It felt wonderful and I could not help but look down and smile. I felt my cheeks redden. I was sure that Madame Giry was able to see it because as I looked up, I saw that a knowing smile had spread across her lips.

I felt a slight sting as the needle entered my flesh.

"I will do everything in my power to assist you." She began as she tied off the first stitch. "To assist the both of you."

I nodded gratefully.

* * *

When she finished stitching and sewing my wound, she afforded me fresh bandages and a clean shirt. It felt heavenly, but I could find no rest. I could find no comfort.

"I cannot stand to simply _sit _here when I know where she is." I began.

"I know." She nodded. "…but unfortunately, any action you take must wait a few days. It would be better not to be imprisoned with such injuries."

I looked up at her, questioning her with my gaze as she left my bedside and began what almost seemed like tidying…

"Are you mocking me? How can you jest...?"

"I am! You frustrate me! I know very well what choice you are going to make, what option is more appealing to you!"

"Madame, another cage does not exactly appeal to me." I eyed her as she continued to pick my clothes up off the floor… With a grimace, I sat up slightly. "What are you doing?!"

"Tidying! This place is a mess!" She gestured haphazardly about the cavern. "And no! But Christine's happiness _does_ appeal to you, and you would sooner accept your fate in a prison cell than actually take the time to think on your options! You need to think about _yourself _as well as Christine Daae!"

I stared at her then, my fists clenching beneath my sheets. My temper was rising. If she did not support me then she could leave. How dare she speak Christine's name with such disdain!

"_Christine Daae_ is in this position _because _of me!" I retorted. "I thank you for all you have done for me, and I will continue to say that because it is a debt I will never be able to repay… but know this; if you are going to tell me to forget Christine then…"

"You headstrong man!" She huffed, throwing my clothes back down on the floor where they belonged. "No, I am not telling you to forget Christine! She is a daughter to me. You know that! I _am _saying that before you go marching to Raoul's estate, demanding her freedom and sacrificing yourself, you should consider your own! That does not mean giving up! That does not mean giving _her _up! It means thinking things through! Can't you see that I care about you also? Do you think I wish to see you behind bars again after all this time? After everything?"

I stared at her then, mouth slightly agape. Her gaze met mine. I had not expected such declarations of friendship, of loyalty.

She took a breath, smoothed her dress and once more retrieved my clothes from the floor. "Consider this…"

"Please, don't tidy." I reasoned, forgetting the brief moment we had shared. I disliked the idea of someone sifting through my belongings almost as much as I disliked being treated like an incompetent child. My clothes were on the floor because that was where I wanted them to be.

She gave me a stern look before continuing.

"Consider this… For the moment, you need not panic. Christine is in a safe place. I do not think that he would hurt her. Do you?"

"No, but he would _use _her to hurt _me, _and I do not wish to think on what that could mean."

"Perhaps you need to. You must think of these things before taking any action at all. If you wish to have a life with Christine, you must consider all your options. Know every outcome. That is still what you want, is it not?"

"Of course it is, but I cannot see it anymore." I looked down at my hands. "I know of the outcomes. Either I end up in chains, or Christine does… A future for one of us is definite and I want it to be hers."

"And what hope does Christine have?" She asked, suddenly rounding on me.

"What?" I asked, looking up.

"This defeatist attitude is not helping her, Erik. It is not helping you heal faster. It is not allowing Raoul to come to his senses. You are achieving nothing with that state of mind."

"Defeatist? It is called being a realist, Madame and I am well acquainted with it."

"We all are, Erik. We have all suffered."

I wanted to protest. I wanted to leap out of bed and tear her down with stories of my past and my unfortunate allotment in life… but I knew that I would be doing it simply to hurt her. She did not deserve any more pain. She too had suffered. She had spoken little of it to me, but I knew. Her love had been taken from her, and _that_ pain I knew only too well. Her husband had been taken from her at the height of their love, leaving her alone in this cold city to fend for herself, and to look after their only daughter. Madame Giry had worked for everything she owned and every skill she possessed and she had achieved it all through a time of unspeakable grief.

Yes… we had all suffered.

"Alright." I began softly. "I apologise." I wasn't exactly sure what I was apologising for, but I knew that it was warranted. The woman before me nodded curtly before approaching me and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Christine will be thinking of you at this very moment, Erik. She will be depending upon you to make it right."

_That's the hardest part._

"I know." I met her gaze, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. "So then a plan is needed, is it not?"

**Christine**

"You need not worry." Raoul's voice spoke from within the darkness of the carriage. At least he had had the decency to sit away from me, on the other side of the vehicle. "You are in no danger with me."

His words were almost enveloped by the thick silence we had been sitting in for some time. We had not spoken since leaving the Opera house and the darkness surrounding us only served to make the silence even _less _bearable. Albeit, it _was_ better than hearing Raoul's poor excuses and hollow apologies but sitting there in that carriage, forcefully separated from Erik… I had never felt more alone.

"Please do not speak to me." I said numbly.

"Christine…" He began, his voice sounding up beat; apparently overjoyed at eliciting an actual response from me. "I only mean to say that I would not hurt you. You need not be afraid."

"I am not afraid." I replied. "I am angry. I am furious. I have never felt more hate for anyone than I do for _you _at this moment, and if you are sated with _that, _then I am happy for you but please leave me out of it." I took a breath before peering out into the dark streets as the carriage trundled along. "I want as little to do with you as possible." I added softly.

"Little Lotte, please. You know me…"

"Do not call me that. I do not know you. I do not understand you. Your actions are not rational and they do not in the slightest, reflect _love _of any sort." I met his gaze. "You are lost to me now and if you go through with this plan of yours, I shall never forgive you."

Raoul made to speak before changing his mind and shifting uncomfortably where he sat. After a few moments, he took a laboured breath and sat back in his seat. It was just as well, for I could not have stomached any more of his words at that moment… any more of _him. _I was sickened by what he had become and what he aimed to do, and I was heartbroken. The only feelings I had left inside of me were hate, sadness, and a deep yearning for the prospect of seeing Erik again; the prospect of him fixing this. He would fix it. I knew he would. He had never failed me before…

I wanted to know where Raoul was taking me… what he planned to do with me.

After another ten minutes or so the carriage stopped. I peered out of the window to see a lavish estate, the boundary of which was a large set of wrought iron gates. These gates displayed a very familiar set of letters.

_De Chagny_

He had taken me to his home. I had expected worse, but somehow it made me feel terrible all the same. As though I were somehow betraying Erik by sleeping under another man's roof, entering another man's gates, sleeping in his sheets. At least a prison would have been neutral ground. Of course, Erik would understand that I was not undertaking any of this by choice and with any luck he would come to my rescue at some point over the coming days, but all the same I found myself apologising under my breath.

I'm sorry, Erik. I'm sorry.

I gazed up at the moon as men, who I assumed were part of Raoul's staff opened the gates before us. I wondered… _hoped _that at that moment Erik was somehow staring at the very same moon and thinking of me. I soon reminded myself that such a thing was impossible; Erik would not be above ground at this time. He would not see the sky where he was and thanks to me, he might never see the sky again.

* * *

**Erik**

"Erik, there is something I think we must discuss." Madame Giry began as she sat down by my bedside and handed me a steaming, rather appetising bowl of soup. It was the next morning, and though I had been adamant about _not _needing sleep, after an hour or so I succumbed to exhaustion. I knew that depriving myself of sleep would not help Christine, and I knew very well that I needed the rest. I did not know what lay in store for me…

"Oh?" I replied. "Is it a confession about this soup? Because I fear that nothing could deter me from this meal… irrespective of what spices you may have actually used…" I brought the bowl to my nose and inhaled, eyeing her in an attempt to evoke a reaction.

"I made what I could with what was here, which was not much!"

I laughed.

"I jest, Madame. I am very appreciative of this."

"You ought to be." She sneered, though I could see that she had found humour in our little exchange.

"Will you not eat?"

"Not at the moment." She replied.

I frowned.

"Alright… Well what is it that you wish to discuss?" I asked as I tasted the soup. Immediately my body felt warmer, I felt more alive and once more aflush with hope, and although I knew it had nothing to do with the soup I could not help but continue to devour it with renewed energy. Madame Giry smiled.

"This is quite wonderful." I said in between mouthfuls of the tasty substance. "Meg is fortunate to have you for a mother."

I saw her visibly wince at the mention of her daughter's name.

"Yes." She spoke distantly. "Perhaps. That was… what I wished to discuss with you…"

"Meg." I nodded, setting the bowl down in my lap.

"Here, let me take that." She took the bowl from me and set it aside. I was sure that it was not necessary at that moment but she seemed to be all of a sudden incapable of meeting my gaze.

"Thank you." I said, heaving myself further up on the bed so that my back was straighter. Sitting in one position for hours proved more difficult in a bed than on an organ bench.

"You're welcome." She added redundantly. "I… am not sure how to begin…"

"You wish to discuss Meg's involvement in all of this." I stated. It was not a question, for I was more than certain of the answer.

Finally she met my gaze.

"…Yes." She spoke with a sense of dazed stupefaction, as if she were searching her thoughts as to exactly how I had figured it all out so quickly.

I nodded.

"Christine told you?"

"No." I said softly. "If she had known earlier she would have told me. My guess is that she found out shortly before our little incident in the stairwell, which is why she returned so promptly after leaving. She was returning to warn me. If she hadn't returned, maybe…" I looked down at my lap, noting morbidly that there was a fair amount of dried blood on the sheets from the last few days. Another set, gone to waste. "It doesn't matter…" I added.

"No, it does not. What's done is done." There was silence for a few moments, and then she continued. "I am not sure how to…"

"There is no need for an apology, if that is what you are about to offer."

"On behalf of my daughter."

"I do not hold you accountable for your daughter's errors. That would be ignorant of me. That being said, I do not blame _her_ either. Her actions may have caused irreparable damage; affected my life, my life with _Christine, _and those actions will be hard to look past, but I am sure that she had a valid reason for betraying her friend. The blame lies with one person…

"le Vicomte." She spoke softly.

I nodded solemnly.

"You will think of something, Erik. You will find her again. I will help you when I return. She stood up.

"What? Where are you going?" I asked, attempting to sit up further.

"I must return above ground." She responded. "I am certain that the managers will have questions regarding the disappearance of their soprano, and at this time it is better to keep the peace."

"They have la Carlotta."

"Did I hear you correctly just now?" She teased, bringing her hand to her ear as if in mock aid of her hearing.

I smirked.

"What has been happening above ground? Have there been questions over the past few days as to her whereabouts? Has anyone asked about me?"

I used to consider myself to be the most informed person in the building, but as of late my mind had been on other things and I had neglected the world above. Ordinarily that would not have concerned me, but now I had a tie to the world above… I almost felt _part _of it. Christine was the counterweight holding me down when my mind threatened to get the better of me, and she was my sense of buoyancy, the rope that pulled me to the surface whenever I felt myself close to drowning…

Losing touch with the real world _now _posed real danger, and I had let days slip by without a scrap of news.

"Over the past few days there has been very little mention of you." Madame Giry continued. "A few of the girls have begun gossiping… something about the Christine being taken by the Opera Ghost…"

I smirked again. For some reason hearing this gave me pleasure.

"And the managers… No mention of me?"

"I have had to _continually _lead them astray. At first I told them that she was ill and needed rest, but they are growing increasingly difficult to avoid, as are their questions. But… no mention of the Opera Ghost, no."

I sat back, somewhat crestfallen. That part was disappointing.

"You do like to make life difficult for me, don't you?" She added with a smirk similar to mine.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, truthfully your absence in the theatre has made my life slightly easier of late, but now it is Christine they are asking about and I am sure it is only a matter of time before they begin to connect your absence with hers."

"I cannot help that."

"No."

"I appreciate everything, Madame. You know that."

She nodded, smoothing her skirts as she did so. I had begun to see that it was a habit, something she did when she felt uneasy. At least I knew my kind words were being heard. I knew that she'd had to pick up the pieces of what Christine and I had caused over the past few days… the past few _years, _and I had always _been_ appreciative but I had never said the words, not until now. People need words. People like to deny that fact, but words hold much power. They have the ability to change a child's life for the worse, or change a man's for the better. Whether or not I knew of Christine's love for me, whenever she said the words I felt as though my heart would explode.

Aside from that…" She continued rather awkwardly. "Seeing as you will be here for at least a week, I will need to venture aboveground to source more supplies."

"Yes, I suppose you will."

* * *

**Madame Giry**

Monsieur Andre was the first to approach me; he always _was _when management had a query. Over the past few weeks, it had become somewhat of a ritual.

_Where is Christine?_

_How is Christine?_

_Can she perform?_

_Has the Opera Ghost mentioned his salary?_

_Has the Opera Ghost mentioned us?_

He spotted me exiting the auditorium through one of the doors and immediately rushed toward me.

"Madame!" He approached me with a sense of comical, flustered exasperation that could only be associated with Monsieur Gilles Andre.

"Monsieur." I nodded politely, but did not stop walking. It was prudent not to allow Monsieur Andre too much of your time. He had the ability to turn a five-minute conversation into hours of drab diatribe and questioning. The small man hurried along behind me."What… er… what were you doing in the auditorium at this time?"

"I am currently employed as the ballet mistress, am I not?" I asked, shooting a glance behind me.

"Yes! Yes. Of course Madame. It is simply that… well, there were no scheduled rehearsals for this morning."

I stopped walking and rounded on the man. Perhaps if I intimidated him enough, he would either _stop _questioning me or get to the _real_ questions he wished to ask.

"Monsieur." I began curtly. "I wish to know why you would trouble yourself with something as trivial as _why _a ballet mistress would be practicing ballet!"

"Oh, I do not mean to offend in any way, Madame! But… you see, usually you would not rehearse in the auditorium, not by yourself. Simply an observation…"

"Perhaps you should be expounding your energy on other observations." I turned on my heel and made to walk toward the small stairwell at the end of the circular hall.

"I have." His voice darkened slightly, taking on a stronger timbre.

Once more, I stopped.

"I have." He repeated. "That is to say… _we _have. The management and a few others, that is."

"And what observations are those, pray tell?"

"Well, one in particular… Miss Daae."

"Miss Daae is ill."

"As you have repeatedly told us."

"As is the truth." I said. "Monsieur, I am aware that you have a business to run; a well oiled machine that I, as well as many others depend upon for their livelihood, but continually enquiring after a girl who is attempting to recover will only impede her progress. The stress is not helping her. I am sure that even _you _can comprehend the toll stress can take on a growing voice."

I hadn't meant to sound snide or condescending…

Or perhaps I had…

"Yes, but we simply _cannot_ have employees disappearing! In addition, our patron has been very distant of late. We do not see him for a good many days and when we do, he is distracted!"

"Le Vicomte? He is a busy man, I would assume."

"Perhaps, but business is business.

"Not _my_ business. Now, if you will excuse me…"

Monsieur Andre rushed in front of me before I could continue, his hands held out before him in a rather uncouth manner intimating to me to stop where I was.

"No doubt you have noticed the increased presence of the law?"

"Of course. It began with the finding of Buquet's body, did it not?"

"Yes." He responded, his hands lowering. "I trust you have heard the rumours as to who is responsible?"

"I have." I nodded.

He took a deep breath.

"Madame Giry, I must ask…"

"Yes?"

"Is there any further information you can provide on the happenings of late?"

"What do you really mean to ask me?"

"I _know _that you are in communication with the Opera Ghost, or at least you _have _been in the past… That is no secret." He reasoned.

"No, it is not. I do his bidding and in return he does not make trouble for me or my daughter. It is an agreement, a business arrangement. Nothing more, nothing less."

He scoffed.

"You expect me to believe that you have not had any communication with him outside of this _arrangement_?"

"I expect you to respect my integrity. But if you must know, I have not heard from him in some time."

"Madame…" He began, his voice soft. He placed a gentle hand on my back that made me inwardly shudder. I was not sure what he was attempting to achieve but it only made me uneasy. "I am not the only one here who finds the disappearance of Mademoiselle Daae _and _the Opera Ghost to be disconcerting. In addition to that, I am certain that le Vicomte is involved in this somehow."

I walked forward slightly, a polite attempt at moving away from his hand.

"Are you asking me if Christine is somehow involved with the Opera Ghost? A man who up until recently you did not believe to exist!"

"They both left the Bal Masque together!"

"Ah." I began, raising my index finger to illustrate what I was about to say. "They left at the _same time. _Not together. You would do well to note the difference." I had cursed both of them for their carelessness that night.

Exasperated, he ran his hand over his greyed hair.

"Madame, I can see that whatever it is you know, you will not divulge here today, but am I correct in assuming that Christine Daae is like a daughter to you? This _Phantom _is a dangerous man. As a mother, do you feel no responsibility to her? To her safety?"

"Allow me to repeat myself, Monsieur. Then, I can go about _my _business and you can go about your own…" Finally, I turned to face him. "I have not spoken to your Opera Ghost in weeks. Christine Daae is ill. As soon as there is a development in either area, I will be sure to make you or Monsieur Firmin aware before anyone else."

He nodded slowly. His brow furrowed as he looked to the ground, apparently in thought. I hoped he wasn't concocting more theories for me to dispel, or _lie _about.

Unfortunately, he was.

"Is Miss Daae in the building at least?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away.

"Good day, Monsieur."

Usually I would pride myself on my decorum, my propriety, and my polite nature. I would never normally disrespect someone in such a way, particularly someone in such authority of my livelihood… but this was not Firmin, it was Andre and I knew that his mind would already be too flustered with the next item on his agenda of things to worry about to mind me. I had business to tend to and deciding that he and his business partner would be sated with that information for now, I continued toward my quarters.

* * *

I passed a few girls on the way to my quarters, receiving no more than a cordial nod from each of them. I hardly received anything else due to the distance I placed between us. I was their instructor and cared for many of them as a mother, but it was not proper to form friendships with my students.

"Maman?" A small voice spoke as I unlocked and entered the room. I looked up to see my daughter, sitting up on my bed. I had wondered if I would see her, had wondered where she might be.

"Meg." I responded, unsure of what else to say.

"I slept in here last night." She spoke softly. "I could not be around the other girls…"

I nodded, walking into the room and taking a seat on the divan on the other side of the room.

"What happened last night?" She offered. "Is everyone alright?"

I scoffed slightly. Things were far from alright.

"No." I looked at her. "They are not."

"Maman, I am so sorry." Her voice wavered on the last few words and almost immediately she began to weep. "I wanted to come to you. I wished to apologise, to fix everything but I could not think straight… and then I did not know where to find you! Where is Christine? Are they both alright? Where is le Vicomte?" "Oh, I am _so _sorry." She wept harder.

I could not tell her that it was alright, not yet.

"Erik will be alright but he remains injured. le Vicomte's sword saw to that." I hadn't meant for the words to be used as weapons against my daughter, but I could not help myself. "Christine no longer remains her, he has taken her and will only release her if Erik turns himself in to the authorities."

Meg stared at me, her eyes brimming with more tears.

"I… I hadn't meant to… What have I done? I am sorry, I am so sorry!"

"I know you are, child." I said, my voice softened. I was unsure of whether or not I could forgive her, but what mother could bear to hear her child sobbing and feel nothing? "Meg…" I began. "Why did you do it?"

"It was Raoul!" She spoke desperately, seemingly relieved at the opportunity to explain herself. "He threatened me! You know I would never do anything to hurt Christine! "He is the patron, he told me that he would make things difficult for you and I if I did not tell him what I knew… and… all I did was tell him where Christine entered to visit The Phan… to visit _Erik. _I had no idea what it would lead to, I was not thinking straight but I was afraid! And…" She looked up at me, as if asking permission to continue or to check whether or not I was listening; accepting her reasoning.

I nodded.

"And I am ashamed to say that I was jealous of Christine…"

"Meg…"

"Not because of Erik. I was jealous because she has this talent, this natural talent. Everything I aspire to, she just _possesses _and it seemed like she was squandering it all! She was getting cast in parts that I could only dream of and she did not care! Perhaps if she told me what she was actually doing… what she was going through, I would have understood. But all she told me was that she was with Erik. I was slaving away at rehearsals, and all the while all everyone could ask me was _have you seen Christine? Where is Christine?! _She was getting the attention even though she wasn't even here! At first I spoke to Raoul out of spite, but I had doubts… and then…"

"Then he threatened you."

"Yes." She nodded.

"Meg, I wish you had come to me."

"So do I, but it all happened so fast! You were preoccupied and so was Christine… and I felt so alone and frustrated and… and there he was…" She began to weep once more and I could not help but sit down beside her on the bed and embrace her.

She clung to me with a ferocity I had not felt in her since she was a child. She was remorseful, of course she was. I believe that she was sorry from the moment she committed the act, from the first aorta of envy she felt.

"What will happen Maman?" She cried. "What will happen to them? To Erik?"

"I do not know. Erik will not last in a prison, not in his condition but at the moment he cannot see past Christine's happiness. It looks as though he is leaning toward bending to Raoul's whim."

"He cannot!"

"I know."

"What can I do?" She pulled away, wiping her eyes. "What can I do to help? Can I help with a plan?"

"I am not sure that he would wish it, child."

Ordinarily Erik would be kind, or at least civil because Meg was my daughter, but her actions had affected Christine and his life with her. I knew that she would not be welcome.

"What can I do?"

"I will need to spend some time with Erik over the coming week. Help him prepare for whatever decision he is soon to make. As much as he denies it, he needs my assistance. If anyone asks where I am, lie. Tell them that I am looking after Christine who is ill. If the managers demand to see either of us, tell them that I have taken her to my brother's house to fully recover… that the change of scenery will do her good… something like that."

"But…. You don't have a brother."

"They do not know that! Monsieur Reyer perhaps, but Andre and Firmin know nothing of my life."

"Where does… my uncle live? If anyone asks…"

"Tell them that he lives just outside of Paris. As curious as the managers may get, they would never inconvenience themselves as such."

Meg nodded.

"I will do what I can to help you, Maman, to help _them." _

I smiled wanly. She was my daughter and I would always love her, but I could not begin my path to forgiving her until this ordeal was over…

One way or another…


	31. Chapter 31

Hi guys! I know it has been too long since my last update but things have been crazy with work. I finally got some time recently before I squashed my thumb in a door and couldn't use it for a few days. It wasn't broken but they were worried that the wound would open. Random, I know. Now I have the flu. It's one thing after another! I digress!

Anyway thanks for all the reviews, please know that I will not abandon this story or Time is Short! I am still very much involved with them both!

Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber

* * *

**Christine**

"_So _then…" I began, turning around to face him as we entered the estate. Many of the lamps inside had been doused by this time, allowing the moon to become the primary source of light, streaming in through the skylights of the magnificent foyer and filling it with a pale, lonely blue.

_Foyer…_

_Atrium…_

I smiled to myself. Once, I had mentioned the foyer of the Opera to Erik and he had corrected me, telling me that in architecture, it was called an atrium. I shivered as the lack of his presence really began to set in.

"What exactly was this in aid of?" I asked, my gaze shifting from my surroundings to him. He looked to me as I spoke.

"In _aid _of…? I…"

He jumped slightly as one of his staff made to remove his coat from this shoulders. This was slightly unsettling, partly because he seemed uncharacteristically on edge, and it also served as a reminder that at no point in our journey had he offered me his coat. I wouldn't have taken it but the gesture would have reassured me that if his propriety remained, perhaps part of _him _did also.

"I want you to be comfortable here." He continued, ill-at ease. He had been this way for some time, but tonight I was really able to take note of it. His once rosy complexion had turned wan and the shade under his eyes suggested that he probably hadn't found sleep in several days.

"You don't _have _a plan, do you?" I probed.

His staff filtered away as our awkward conversation continued. Several of them afforded me strange looks before leaving, but nothing more.

"Do you honestly think that Erik will turn himself in? That he would make it so easy for you? And even if he does, what then? What do you expect to do with me? Would you have us form a life from hatred?"

He sighed.

"Christine, the plan is as I told you. As I told you _both. _This has never been about you. Of course, it _is _about your safety but _never _was the goal for me to take you prisoner. It was never to see you unhappy. I have you here to draw _him _out…"

"And you refuse to see that such a plan could affect my happiness? You cannot see past your own selfish gain."

"Selfish? Christine, this is for _your _safety! Not mine!"

"Ah – so then it _is _about me?"

"Y-yes… about your wellbeing."

"And what gives you the right to determine my wellbeing, Raoul? How can you claim to know what is best for me when you scarcely know me at all? Past the age of seven, that is!"

"It is clear to see, Christine! I do not need to be a genius to surmise that murderers are bad company to keep!"

"The company I keep is _my _choice! Whatever he is or whatever you think you may know about him, it is up to me!"

"Whatever I _think _I know? Do you deny that he contributed directly to Buquet's demise?!"

"No, I do not… I…"

Erik _had _murdered Buquet. He had done it and he had admitted the fact to my face. It isn't something one readily forgets, but it had nothing to do with Raoul!

"How can you defend such a man?"

"It is none of your concern!" I argued, once more finding my voice. "I do not belong to you! I never will!"

"Christine… once, I had hoped that my affections toward you might be returned."

"That will _never _happen!" I spat.

He nodded and stepped toward me, offering his hands in gesture of conversation.

"…And while I am beginning to see that that may never come to pass, I still care for you, and that is why I…

"You do not care for me. You _cannot. _Perhaps you _did, _but no man who uses a woman as a chess piece; as collateral in blackmail can claim to care for her. I may be naïve, but I know that much."

"Christine, please… that isn't what this is…"

"That little boy by the sea…" I scoffed and looked down, tears pricking at my eyes; tears for what might've been, for a time that I could never regain, for a lost friend… "He is truly lost. All that matters to you now is finding Erik, the chase… the game… What happens when you do? What happens when he is gone? What happens to me? Did you spare a single thought?"

"I… I know it is difficult…" He stammered.

"Where is my cell?"

"What?"

"Where am I to be kept?"

"Christine, please don't be like that."

"And just how would you _like_ me to be? I am a prisoner, am I not?"

"I do not wish for you to feel that way."

"Is it not that way?"

"Christine…"

He started toward me once more. I took a step backward.

"Am I able to leave? Walk out through those doors?" I gestured to the two large, embellished doors through which we had just entered.

"They… they have been locked…"

"And if I asked you to unlock them?"

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Do not put me in this position, please… I do not _wish _for this to sound like a threat, but…"

"…But Erik will suffer if I do?"

"Listen, I had called off my search in order to reason with you both. I could have had them search the cellars after him but I deemed it a waste of time and man power when I knew that I would be able to lure him out just as easily…"

"You are so _generous." _I sneered.

"I am not threatening you, Christine… but know that I have _given_ him this time, and I could revoke it just as easily."

"You would not find him." I sneered, becoming frustrated.

"Are you willing to chance that?"

I looked at him. My gaze did not falter as I stared into those steely, grey eyes. He _was _threatening me, but I would not let him intimidate me. He would not win this. I had to find a way to contact Erik, to tell him not to give in, nor to seek me out. It was too dangerous. I would find my way back to him, but it would have to be on _my_ terms. I would see him again, even if it took years, I would. In the meantime, I would play le Vicomte's games. I would join him in his dance. I would say what I needed to say, and act how I needed to act. I could do this… this was simply another hurdle for Erik and I to conquer. Anything was bearable as long as it led back to him and this would… as long as I could devise a plan, this would. I looked down in an attempt to mask my newfound elation.

"Where is my room?"

"Let me take you…"

"Please. Don't." I protested. I could not let him know of the sudden sense of ease that had just overcome me. "Just tell me where it is." I added, my gaze still stuck on the marble floor beneath me. "I wish to be alone."

He sighed.

"Alright… this-this must be difficult." He reached out for my shoulder. I stepped backward, genuinely vexed by the idea of being touched by him. "Up the stairs… Your room is the second on the left."

I began to walk away.

"The key is inside. You shall have your privacy while you are here and I shan't invade it…"

I did not acknowledge him, simply smiled once more- this time it was visible. A locked door… that was a start. I would begin planning as soon as I had closed and locked the door behind me. My journey back to Erik would begin tonight.

* * *

**Erik**

I awoke to sounds in my kitchen, a slight panic arose in me before recalling the events prior to my falling asleep. I was _not_ being robbed… it was simply Madame Giry. The thought of someone in my house, coming and going as they pleased left me ill at ease. _Ordinarily_, I would never allow it, but I had to remind myself that these were not ordinary circumstances.

I sat up and slipped on my mask and wig. My self-conscious tendencies began to creep back as I began to feel more myself and Madame Giry had seen enough of my semblance of a face for the time being. My chest was burning, but the pain was not crippling. My stomach wound ached, but it was not debilitating. More than anything, the pain was emotional. Deep down I knew that Madame Giry spoke sense about Raoul, that he would not hurt her, but how could I really be sure? The last words I had spoken to Madame Giry had been positive ones. I had assured her that I would solve this. I had always considered myself to be intelligent; a problem solver, but now came the time to action those words and I hadn't a clue where to begin. And all the while the same words niggled at my every thought…

_You will never hold her again._

_You will fail to concoct a plan. You will fail as you always do and she will be gone._

_You will die._

I stood up, exited the bedchamber and walked to the edge of my lake, peering into the cold, stillness as I often did when I needed to think.

I needed Christine. I couldn't think when I was so far away from her. I sighed and looked down at my feet. They were freezing, why hadn't I worn shoes?

"Should you be out of bed?" Madame Giry's voice called to me, knocking me off my train of thought.

"Who can say?" I responded, still looking at my feet. I was never in the best of moods upon waking up, and this time was much worse than the rest. There is nothing quite like waking from a terrible nightmare, only to find that it is in fact, reality.

Either way, I was in no mood for one of the famed _Giry lectures._

"When did you return?" I asked, sleepily reaching beneath my shirt and scratching my lower back as I approached her in the kitchen.

"Perhaps an hour ago… I did not wish to wake you."

I waved my hand dismissively.

"It is fine. However, I am surprised that I didn't hear you enter. My hearing is usually quite keen…"

"You were exhausted, I expect."

"I am always exhausted." I remarked, leaning on the counter top with my head in my hands. "It should make no difference."

"Even so, you needed the rest."

I nodded, choosing not to further the argument.

"And what of_ your _rest?"

She looked up at me, one eyebrow cocked.

"Have you softened in your old age?" She asked.

I mirrored her expression.

"_Old age?! _I am younger than you, Madame! And what could you mean by that?"

"Oh… simply taking note of your sense of empathy."

"What is to be noted?"

"Nothing! I am simply teasing."

I rolled my eyes.

"Please, spare me this diatribe until I have fully woken up."

"…And when, pray tell will you be awake _enough _for diatribe? Or have you forgotten that we have a rescue to plan?" She handed me a cup of steaming liquid. "Here you are. I might've known that someone such as you would have coffee in their home."

"How could I have forgotten." I remarked bitterly, holding the cup in both hands for warmth. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You simply seem the type."

"Well… truthfully I wasn't aware that I had any left."

I eyed her warily before taking a sip.

"Well done." I said with a guarded smile. "This is exactly how I have it."

"A bucket load of sugar and no milk?"

"Three teaspoons…" I frowned. "…_hardly _a bucket load."

"You have a sweet tooth, I recall." She smiled guardedly. "However, there _was _no milk. So that part was all coincidental."

I scoffed.

"What else of my dietary preferences do you recall, Madame?"

"I do not forget so easily. We were quite close, once. I used to steal breakfast pastries for you when you first arrived here, had you forgotten?"

I smiled and looked down.

"Yes, I had…" Until now.

"Yes well, I had not." She handed me a Gateau Basque, something I had not tasted in over a decade… Mostly due to laziness or reluctance to leave my home.

"Where did you find this?" I asked, hastily taking a bite. Usually, due to my mask I would not eat in someone else's company, but I was beyond famished and one pastry would not make me too uncomfortable.

"I stopped at the boulangerie before returning. I did not want to spend too much time in the Opera itself, lest I be questioned by anyone else."

"Well thank you." I said. I looked up. "'_Else?' _You saw someone of significance?"

She nodded.

"I had brief conversations with both Meg and Monsieur Andre."

I rolled my eyes; a sarcastic gesture directed more toward the management than her daughter. One of many.

"And what did _he _want?"

"He wanted to know where Christine was…"

"Of course…"

"…And he wanted to know if I had spoken to you."

"Really?" I asked, my eyebrow cocked.

"Yes. He thinks that the disappearance of Christine is somehow linked to your absence."

I scoffed.

"Well, it _is._"

"_Erik." _

Her tone of reprimand was a familiar one.

"Well, what would you have me do? Show myself again? Announce my presence at the top of the grand escalier? It wouldn't be very threatening this time though, would it? Not in my state." I thought for a moment. "I would _like _to show myself again. It would certainly do them good."

I sat down at my table, a childish smile still tugging at my lips. I couldn't help myself when it came to those managers.

"Why do you take this lightly?"

"Believe me, Madame." I snickered. "I am aware of the gravity of the situation."

"Then why do you laugh?!"

"_Because I don't know what else to do!"_

Finally, the smile left my voice and I had the overwhelming desire to weep… but I did not.

"We are sitting here, wasting time on small talk, ignoring the real issue and… I know that you are expecting me to solve it! So find a solution! I know that everyone is, but what if I cannot!?" I pushed my chair back and stood up, slowly backing away from her.

"Erik, do not do this."

"Do what?! You know exactly how I am about to act? Oh, am I _so _predictable now? Because you've spent _so _much time with me? You do not know me! I am not the child that you rescued all those years ago, Madame. Do not fool yourself into believing that we are anything more than acquaintances!"

"Why are you saying these hurtful things?"

"Because that is who I am! You think simply because you bring me a pastry and speak of a time years ago, that we can go _back _to that time? That I can be that person again?! I will _never _be that person again! And… since then I have done things… such… _such terrible things!"_

"I know what you have done!"

"You do not! Since we met I have… I have lived a life… a life of sin. I have done things that even you could not look past. No one should have to look past them. Christine should not. Perhaps… Perhaps she is better off where she is."

"Christine is sensible enough and intelligent enough to make her own choice! Do not discredit her. Do not discredit yourself!"

"Discredit myself? What worth do I have?"

"Erik, you have _such _worth! Such skill! I…"

"What good are skills if I am a terrible person?"

"You are _not _a terrible person! You have done terrible things, yes, but they will only define you if you let them! I see you! The _real _you! I am one of the few people who does! All those things that Christine said to you on the stairs, I know them to be true!"

I shifted where I stood.

"Do you trust Christine?" She asked after a moment of silence.

"I… why are you asking that? Of course. Why?"

"If you trust her, you should trust her judgement. She chose you. She wants _you." _

I smiled sadly.

"She does not _know _of everything I have done..."

"Well, if you wish it you have a lifetime to tell her."

Of course I wished it.

Of course.

Slowly, calmly I sat down once more. After a few moments, Madame Giry did also.

As I took another hesitant bite of my pastry I thought struck me. A memory…

The letter…

Christine's father!

Christine's father was such an important part of her life. I knew that more than anyone. After years of suffering, tears, questioning her place in the world… all of which I had witnessed; been part of, helped her through… Finally, there was something… something for her to hold onto. What were the chances of her father being alive? I did not know, but at the very least there was information. A step further in her recovery perhaps, a step closer to letting go; some kind of closure? Whatever it was, I wanted it for her and it had all been delayed thanks to that _boy! _I found myself loathing le Vicomte more than ever. The death of Christine's father had brought us together; it was how we had met. I was not proud of any of it, in fact I still _hated _myself for how I had handled it, and though Christine had forgiven me I knew that this new path was something we needed to undertake together; a final catharsis for both Christine and her father, _and _for Christine and myself.

Where had this letter come from?

Madame Giry.

Who had known Gustave Daae before his passing?

Madame Giry.

"Madame." I began before clearing my throat. This was going to be awkward. Before I knew it, my whole life would be up for discussion; When I had first met Christine… the music lessons… everything! Madame Giry already knew of most of it, yes, but what she didn't know she would ask. That much I was sure of. Either way I had to do it for Christine…

"Madame, the letter…" I began.

She looked up.

"The letter from Christine's father. I must know… How did it come to be in your possession?"

The woman before me looked down. She was silent for a moment. A _long _moment such that I saw sit to prompt her to speak, but I did not.

Finally, she took a deep breath and met my gaze once more.

"Did you read it?"

"Yes." I nodded vigorously. I had been hoping for more upon an opening statement.

"All of it?"

"Yes." I repeated.

She sighed.

"I really think that this time would be better spent on a plan…"

"Madame, please." I said, cutting her off. I reached across the table and placed my hand over hers; a gesture that she seemed just as uncomfortable with as I. I was only just becoming accustomed to physical contact with Christine. After a moment or so, I removed my hand. "I must know." I said.

"Very well…"

* * *

**A shorty- I know. I have a flu just now, but i wanted to upload something for you guys! Let me know what you think!**


	32. Chapter 32

**Hi guys! Really excited about this chapter and for where things are going! Please let me know what you think! Thank you for all the support in the meantime, it means the world that you have all stuck with this for so long.**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

**Christine**

I had attempted to stay awake, mostly out of spite for Raoul… but with everything that had happened over the course of the night, and I was exhausted. I lay down on the large, four poster bed, prepared to plan my way out of the prison I was in, but within a matter of seconds sleep had taken me.

However, I awoke within a few hours due to discomfort. Sleeping in a corset proved to be too much for me to handle. A maid had knocked on my door soon after arriving but I had refused her. I didn't want one thing from Raoul. Now, I was beginning to regret it.

I stood up and walked to the doors that met the balcony. I tried the handle and was surprised to find that Raoul had not locked these doors as well. I opened them and walked out onto the small balcony, staring wistfully out into the blackness. The air had a chill to it. I used to love the Autumn months in Paris. There was always something special about them, something… otherworldly somehow. It was not cold enough to be unpleasant but once indoors there was a sense of belonging; a sense of warmth. Cozy. Safe.

As cosy and as safe as an orphan could feel anyway…

Autumn always made me feel as though anything were possible. As though along with the dust and the leaves, there was magic in the air.

Perhaps I would need a little bit of that.

I leant on the railing before me, forlorn, and closed my eyes. If I could not have Erik's arms around me at this moment, I would imagine them. Imagine his warmth. Imagine the feeling of his heartbeat on my back, his breath in my ear. That deep, husky voice whispering something…

There was a knock at the door.

Irritated at having my fantasy interrupted, I snapped.

"Who is it?!"

"It is me." Raoul's muffled voice responded.

"The last person I want to speak to." I said. "Please, go away."

"Christine, you cannot be like this for the entire two weeks! You are making this more difficult than it needs to be!"

"And what makes you think that it will _take _all of two weeks?"

Raoul scoffed.

"Expecting a rescue? Do let me know. I should like to have my men prepared for such a meeting."

Enraged at the image of anyone accosting Erik, I marched to the door and swung it open to see Raoul's alarmed face.

"_When_ did you become so cruel?!" I cried.

"I…" He stammered. "I'm sorry, Christine." He took a breath. "I'm sorry."

I scoffed.

"You _did _mean it though." I walked away from him, leaving the door open. Constantly keeping my guard up was exhausting. How had Erik done it his entire life?

Raoul took the unintentional invitation and slowly stepped inside.

"I don't want you to think me cruel… may I?"

I made a blasé wave in his direction.

"It's your house, is it not?"

"It is, but possession is not all that is important to me. Possession is not everything. I want you to be comfortable."

"That's kind of you." I remarked with a tone I had adopted from Erik.

"Christine, please." He began, taking another step. I didn't know why he was being so apprehensive; I was not afraid of him. "Can we not just be civil?"

"I thought I _was_ being civil?" I snapped at him, sitting on the edge of the four poster bed. I looked down at my hands in my lap. "You'd know if I wasn't…" I added, almost to myself.

He nodded slightly.

"Shall I have someone tend to you." He began, perhaps not knowing what else to begin with. "No doubt you are in want of fresh clothing."

"No…" I shot hastily. These were the clothes I was wearing when I last saw Erik. I could still imagine his scent on them… his touch… I needed to get back to him. As I gently fingered the fabric of my dress an idea returned to me; that which I had had prior to my falling asleep. How could I have forgotten? I needed to charm him. To shroud him in a false sense of security, of trust. Perhaps I could trick him into trusting me enough to take a walk…

All of a sudden my mind was swimming with ideas…

"No I don't need fresh clothes." I added distractedly. "A bath, perhaps."

His face seemed to brighten at the idea of me accepting something from him.

"I will see to it."

There was silence for a few moments. All that could be heard was the distant ticking of a clock, and the slight wind had picked up outside. It filled me with a bittersweet yearning. Yearning for Erik, yes… but yearning for a time gone by. Yearning for my youth, for my father; my old life without complication; The house by the sea… I could easily recall the feeling of that breeze on my cheeks, rushing through me. It could almost have been yesterday.

"Thank you for not locking the doors to the balcony…"

"You are not a prisoner." He said gently. Although, I knew that I was.

"That breeze… it reminds me of…"

"The sea." He finished. "You are thinking of your… _our _childhood? Of Sweden?"

I nodded. I was now aware I was in a genuine conversation with Raoul; the first in many years. I wished I could admit to it all being part of my devious plan to charm him, but it was not.

He sighed and sat down beside me on the bed.

"I only heard that your father had passed when I returned to the Opera. I need to apologise for neglecting to mention it until now. It may be too late but I wish to extend to you my condolences."

"It is never too late." I said with a slight smile.

"Thank you." He said. "Up until then I imagined you just as you were; young, happy. Perhaps still living in that house or travelling with your father as you had once told me you had. And then… I _saw _you and…"

I stared at him as he stammered. What game was he playing?

"…And you were just so… beautiful does not accurately describe. It was so much more. You were perfect. Just as I had remembered only, just as I was a man, you were a woman. We had aged together and I only hoped our connection would remain… I-I'm sorry. I… seem to be getting off topic."

He was flustered. I knew that he cared for me. Inspite of everything hearing him speak of it still cut me slightly but there was little I could do, especially given everything. I remained still, awkwardly staring at my hands.

"Anyway, as you know, after we left Sweden I spent a lot of time at sea."

"Yes, I had heard you were in the Naval forces?" I said, thankful to be off the topic of _me. _

"Yes." He nodded.

"Well, it feels much like a sea breeze. Some would argue that all sea breezes are the same, and even though I can understand that point of view… what I'm trying to say is that… the breeze takes me right back to that house on the sea as well." He managed. "Christine, what do you think might have happened if my family had not left Sweden?"

I didn't want to think about it.

"I'm not sure…"

And then, not knowing what possessed me to do so, I told him.

"Raoul, I think that… my father may be alive." I mumbled.

I didn't know why I was telling him this. I didn't think there was any harm in it, but truthfully I hadn't thought it through.

"What?" He asked, shocked. He inched closer to me. I had told him something important and I could see how happy this had made him, but I had not done it for any sort of gain. Perhaps I just needed to speak about it. "How do you know?! What makes you say this?!"

"There was a letter. Madame Giry had kept it hidden until just before you… took me."

"Where is the letter?" He asked, choosing to ignore the '_took me_' part.

"It's with Erik."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"I will help you!" He offered.

"NO." I shot. "No, I want to go with…"

_With Erik._

"I would rather go when…" I began again carefully. "When all of this is sorted out."

"I understand." He said quietly. "Well, I would be happy to help you when you are ready. I know how much your father meant to you."

_Means_

"Do you?" I asked snidely.

"Of course." He answered, clearly not picking up on my tone.

"God knows… if he _is _alive, if he had never have gone missing, perhaps this whole… _Erik _mess would never have happened."

I bit my tongue.

"Why did you tell me this, Christine?" He asked.

I had no idea. It wasn't for pity, and it wasn't part of any scheme…

"I… don't know."

He nodded, seemingly lost in thought, before rising and walking to the door.

"Well, I will send someone in with your water." He said, walking to the door and opening it.

He turned to me.

"Thank you for… allowing me to talk with you. I will do my very best to help you, Christine." He added.

He looked so sincere. Why did he not understand that all he had to do to _help _me was release me?

"Why _did _you come?" I asked.

"I couldn't sleep, and I assumed that you were being similarly plagued. I can't stand to have you hate me, Christine."

I wished I could have told him that I didn't hate him… but I did. I still did. How could I not hate him?

"I suppose that making one last appeal is pointless." I said mirthlessly.

"After you bathe, I will send someone in with something to eat. Will that be alright?"

I took a deep breath and nodded, my gaze once more drifting to the balcony. My thoughts once more drifting to Erik. I heard the door close and lock, and I was once more alone.

* * *

**Erik**

"I can scarcely believe it." I began, my head in my hands. "Why would he have stayed away for so long?"

"That, he didn't say."

"Well, how did he get the letter to you?"

"I received it here."

"Then how can you be sure it was from him?"

"We were dear friends. I would know his penmanship anywhere."

I eyed her warily.

"Trust me, Erik. I would not have told Christine if I was not certain."

"Why did you not tell her sooner?"

"He may not be alive, Erik." Madame Giry reasoned.

"Yes, I know. But… even the possibility… Christine must know!"

"Christine has read the letter. The same as you, and the same as me."

"But she does not know what you have just told me! It is _not _as if he gave you this letter a decade ago, and said give it to Christine when she comes of age… It was dated a month ago! I cannot imagine why you did not tell her sooner!"

"I did not wish to get her hopes up!"

"_Hopes?!_ For months, Christine has had the chance of seeing her father alive, and you have kept that from her! Held it above her head… just out of reach!" A familiar rage was building up inside me.

"I did it for her protection!"

"From whom?" I growled. "_Her own father?!"_

"You know as well as I do that months ago, Christine was very fragile. In fact, up until you revealed yourself she was introverted, delicate… but in that state she was guardedly happy! I did not wish to ruin it!"

"How can you say that you have done this _for _Christine, _mislead _her… and say that you did it for her happiness?"

"Ah- that story sounds familiar!"

I stood up, furious.

"_You know nothing about the relationship between Christine and I!"_ I spat, rounding on her._ "You hardly know her! You hardly know your own daughter! She caused this mess! Look at what you allowed her to do! How can you call yourself a mother when…_"

_SLAP_

She struck me.

I brought my hand to my cheek- it stung warmly. The last time someone had slapped me, it had been my _own _mother. After that, much worse had followed. I looked at her in disbelief. Tears prickled my right eye, but only because my right cheek was still stinging.

She brought her hands to her mouth, apparently as shocked as I was with what she had done.

"I-I'm so sorry, Erik."

"No. Forgive me." I said. "I was out of line."

"I shouldn't have done that." She said, pulling me roughly into an embrace. I did not return it. It felt too strange. Instead, I spoke.

"I would have killed for a mother like you." I said quietly.

She winced at my choice of words but replied.

"I have always felt somewhat responsible for you, as well as Christine. Perhaps not like a mother, but… a sister? Or at least a friend. I want you to know that you have never _truly _been alone."

I smiled.

"Thank you."

After a few awkward moments, I pulled away.

"I have to tell Christine what I know." I said, striding away in search of a jacket.

"Erik." She warned, following me. "What are you doing?"

"Madame." I retorted. "I am going to her. You know as well as I do that she must know this."

"It is too dangerous."

"Your lack of confidence in me is truly _inspiring." _I quipped. I pulled a jacket from my wardrobe and eased it on. I had never been more irritated with my repugnant body. My injuries were making everything harder than they needed to be. "I assure you, if I do not wish to be found, I will not be. Are you forgetting who I am?"

"You always _have _been an arrogant clod." She shot.

"Perhaps, but I have earned the right."

"Are you forgetting how you landed yourself in this mess to begin with?" She argued.

"I was careless. I was distracted." I said as I laced my boots. "I will not be either of those tonight."

"Are you not in pain?"

"Of course."

"Well, perhaps you ought to rest for another day or two!"

"No. As you've said, _I _mislead Christine. And… I don't mean to put this on you. I mean that I treated her poorly for years. And… there is nothing in this world that I care more about than her; her happiness. Even though she has forgiven me, the guilt still plagues me. It is on my mind every waking hour." I approached her and gently placed my hands on her shoulders. "This is my chance to right those wrongs. I will tell her what I know, and then leave. I will not do anything foolish, I promise you."

_Right those wrongs._

There was truly only one way to do that, it was more than giving Christine information about how to find her father. It was giving her the opportunity to do so, and it was something I was not going to tell Madame Giry.

"In the meantime, perhaps you can… plan." I said. "Try and think of ways that we can free her."

What I wasn't telling her was that I had no intention of returning to hear them.

"Yes." She said, smiling wanly.

I nodded at her, before stuffing the letter in my pocket, picking up my cape, and exiting my home.

* * *

Being that it was dark, I was able to sneak out of the Opera without discovery. After a few minutes of darting in and out of shadow, I spotted a carriage at the side of the road. As soon as I saw him I knew that this was an opportunity for directions; he was a cab driver and appeared to be finishing for the night. With the cowl of my cloak over my face, I approached.

I asked him where the de Chagny estate was. He thought for a moment before affording me vague directions. These would be enough, though. He had directed me West of Paris, and given my state I knew that it would at least take the day to get there. The man did not see my mask, but he stared at me for a moment too long and this did not sit well with me. Knowing that I was still very much a wanted man, I couldn't risk anything. Even a man in a hood would arouse suspicion, and this close to the Opera, I couldn't have that.

I couldn't kill him though. Christine was my conscience, and I nearly lost her when she found out about the last incident… Buquet. Besides, another murder so close to the Opera would not look good either.

I left him unconscious, affording him the courtesy of heaving his body into his cab so that he was not a target for thieves. Thankfully, he was not a heavy man, but the action made my injuries scream all the same.

I managed to make it out of Paris without incident, but I knew that the rest of the journey would be difficult. I was on foot. It was less conspicuous, and I didn't wish to risk Raoul taking ownership of my horse. But each step pained me and I was still quite exhausted. Thankfully, the sun only rose once I was out of Paris. This meant less chance of being seen, but it also meant that I had to make my journey in the sun. At around midday I took a break, stripping down to my dress shirt and sitting by a tree off the main road to cool down. It was in the shade and it was out of sight. That was enough.

After thirty minutes or so I continued my journey to Christine. I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered what she would be doing when I arrived? Where would she be?

This was something I had not considered. Nor had I considered the possibility of the presence of the law at Raoul's estate.

I would deal with these issues when I came to them.

At around six o'clock, I knew I had reached my destination; a grand estate surrounded by a tall, iron fence. Once more donning my waistcoat and jacket so that I wouldn't have to carry them, I approached…

I would deal with these issues when I came to them.

* * *

**Christine**

A day passed. At every opportunity I stood at the balcony, gazing out as far as I could, hoping that I would catch a glimpse of what I wanted to see…

Him…

Raoul had been civil with me, and I had been civil in return. He had allowed me to wander through the corridors of his home, _only _upstairs of course; a peace offering perhaps. I obliged. All the while, every door I saw, every window… I was thinking about Erik; thinking about what window he would use if he was to find me, what turns he would take.

Raoul only invited me downstairs for dinner, but I refused him, telling him that I would prefer to take it alone. I knew that I only had to bide my time; that somehow Erik would find me and that everything would be alright, but even so, dining with Raoul felt like betrayal.

I ate half of my dinner and set it aside. I would have left it outside my door, but of course my door was still locked from the outside. Once more, I walked to the balcony and stood, gazing out into the night as I had done the night before. Again, that wind swept through me, and with it, crept that bittersweet nostalgia. Tonight though, the air felt different. Why? I couldn't quite say. I closed my eyes and allowed it to envelop me. Perhaps I thought if I wished hard enough, it could carry me away.

* * *

**Erik**

I was surprised to find that there was no one guarding the property. Perhaps Raoul wasn't expecting me, or perhaps he knew that I wouldn't put up a fight. I strode through the long grass near the fence, thankful when I made it to the manicured part of the lawn. I had always hated grass.

There was a cool wind blowing. I seldom felt such wind on my face due to the life I lead. It was beautiful, for some reason, it reminded me of Christine. I walked closer to the house, being careful to keep under the cover of shadow and trees. I could not be caught before I delivered my message to Christine. It was too important.

Again, I wondered where he would keep her. I deduced that it would probably be high up; less chance of escape. I circled the house once, peering intently at every balcony, every closed window for some clue as to her whereabouts. I knew that her window would be open; she loved the breeze, but other than that, any clues I would be too small to see from where I was, and I could not afford to move closer.

I was almost nearing the end of my lap; returning to where I had started when I saw her…

Standing on one of the many balconies that bordered the large house. If she had not been standing outside, I would have been lost. I could not hide the smile on my face as I took her in. She was so beautiful. Truly an angel standing up there with the wind billowing through her dress and hair; her eyes were closed. She seemed so serene.

Perhaps she _was _happy here?

Pushing it to the back of my mind, I approached. Climbing had never been a problem for me, nor had heights. I scaled the house silently and expertly, managing to reach her balcony in a matter of seconds.

Seeing her again had rendered me speechless. All that I could utter was her name.

* * *

**Christine**

I turned away, prepared to close the doors behind me and farewell another night without him, when I heard a familiar, hushed voice. _His _unmistakable voice.

"Christine." Was all it said.

Unable to mask my elation, I spun around to see Erik pulling himself over the stone railing to stand before me. There he was, just as I had remembered, just as I had seen him in my head. Dressed almost all in black, he wore a familiar expression of apprehensive longing. His glowing, white mask wore the same terse expression, but we both bore the same smile as I threw myself into his arms.

Our lips met in a passionate kiss before I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him tightly. I inhaled, breathing him in. How I had missed his scent.

"Oh, Erik. I've been so worried." I whispered into his chest, my words muffled by the fabric of his waistcoat, tears welling up in my eyes. "He made me leave you when you were like that." I whimpered, actually beginning to weep at the image of Erik lying on those stairs, covered in blood as Raoul ushered me away. "Oh… I knew that you'd come!"

"And I always will." He whispered, placing a kiss atop my head. "Don't cry, Môn Ange. As you can see, I am quite alright."

"How did you find me?!" I asked in a hushed whisper, still holding him tightly.

"I have my ways, Christine Daae." He replied with a smile in his voice. "How are you? Has he hurt you?"

"No, no." I whispered, finally pulling away and wiping my eyes. I looked up to see a similar tear fall from his. Before he could raise his hand, I reached up and gently wiped it with my thumb. His skin was warm beneath my hand as I gently caressed his cheek. He smiled to my touch and placed his hand over my own.

"I've missed you." He said.

"I've missed you terribly." I responded. Suddenly recalling his injuries, I placed my hand over his chest. "Your… how did you make it with… you must be in so much pain!"

"It is manageable." He smiled warmly.

"How did you… When I left, did Madame Giry…"

"Madame Giry helped me, yes."

"I owe her my life." I said, kissing him.

"I already owe her mine." He mused.

I smiled and embraced him again.

"Come." I began, pulling him away from the railing. "Come away from the edge, you might be seen."

He obliged.

"Why have you come?" I said. I laughed, realising how rude it may have sounded. I kissed him again. "Sorry, I mean… do you have a plan? Have you come to take me away from here? Oh, please Erik. Let's leave here."

"No." He said plainly. "No… not yet. I d-don't have a plan as of yet. I've come here because I've learned some information about… the situation with your father."

I stared at him in disbelief. He had come all this way and yet he was still going to leave me with Raoul?

"Erik, please. You can tell me about my father later. Can't we just leave? Were there any guards or… did you see any men when you approached?"

"No…"

"Then we can leave! Let me put on my shoes…" I began, pulling away from him to walk inside.

"Christine, no." He said, gently holding on to me. "You must listen to me."

"Erik, we are wasting time!"

"_Listen, please!" _He whispered harshly.

I turned back to him. The desperate look in his eyes told me that I needed to listen to what he had to say.

"Alright." I acceded. "But then, we leave!"

He nodded but I got the impression that it was more dismissive than anything else.

"You already know that the letter was dated a month ago, yes?" He began.

"Yes, of course. We read it together."

"I mean… the date is written there in what we assume is _his _penmanship?"

"Yes. Yes." I replied. I couldn't imagine what he was getting at.

"Now… I still do not know what really happened to your father, all I know is what Madame Giry told me, and…"

"What is it, Erik?" I was becoming impatient.

He took a deep breath.

"She did not receive it a month ago as we once thought."

"…What?"

"She received it about a year ago, before we… _well,_ before we physically met. So, it seems that… your father wrote the wrong date on it."

"…but why would he do that?"

"Well, that is what I've come here to tell you."

"Wait, wait." I began, struggling to understand what was happening. "So, that means that he may _not _be alive? He could have written it years ago!"

"No, I believe that he wrote it shortly before sending it." He began, taking my hand. "Christine, he didn't include this in the letter, but he gave Madame Giry an address… and his instructions were to give you the address with the letter when she knew you were ready."

"I… I don't understand."

"He wanted you to find him, Christine."

I stared at him for a moment in disbelief. Could this be? Was this confirmation that he was actually alive?

"But why did he date it at all if the only stipulation was my being _ready?!" _

"I think… perhaps… that is why I needed to tell you this so urgently." He said gently. "Madame Giry mentioned that he was ill upon writing the letter. I think perhaps, that is how long he expected to…"

"Don't say it, please…" I said, falling back against the wall of the house for support. "Are you telling me that after all this, my father could be dead anyway because of Madame Giry's poor judgement?! That he has been alive for all this time! That for at least a year I could have _seen _him, could have lived in his presence, but… that I'm simply too late?!"

"Christine, do not blame Madame Giry. Your father put it all in her hands. It was a lot of pressure…"

I began to weep once more.

"Who am I to blame!? It was dated a month ago, Erik!" I cried, falling to the floor. "_I am a month too late!"_

"No! Christine, that was the date he gave…" Erik knelt down beside me, taking me into his arms as I wept. "Perhaps that was his expectation, but there may still be time!"

_"What if in his final months, all he could think about was the fact that his only daughter did not want to see him! That she received the letter but did not want to see him! I cannot bear the thought!"_

"I am sure he did not think that!" Erik consoled.

_"I h-have to find him, Erik…"_ I wept. _"I- I have to!"_

Erik held me tightly.

"I know." He said sadly. "I know."

_"Will you help me?" _I cried.

I thought I felt him shudder. Was he upset also?

"Of course, Môn Ange." He said, taking a deep, uneven breath. "Always."

I pulled away then, hoping that his expression would explain his strange answer. Once more, he had tears in his eyes. He was smiling sweetly at me.

_A noise sounded downstairs._

His smile widened.

"Erik, what was that?"

_Footsteps coming down the hall._

"Erik… you need to go!" I pushed him, attempting to shake him out of the strange state of mind he was in. "Get up, you have to hide!"

_The door handle sounded. Keys outside rattled._

Still, he smiled.

"You are so beautiful." He said calmly, placing a kiss on my forehead.

"Erik… what are you…"

He stood up, and held his hand out to me. I took it and stood beside him. Finally, his gaze left mine, shifting to the bedroom door, now opening.

"Please…" I tugged at his arm. "What are you _doing?!" _

By the time I glanced back at the bedroom door, it was wide open. Several men had filtered in, and in the centre stood Raoul, pistol in hand.


	33. Chapter 33

**Hello, my old friends. **

**I need to start off by saying how much I have appreciated your support over the last few months (my absence). They have truly been so inspiring and motivational, and are part of the reason I started writing again. Honestly- there wasn't really an absence. I mean I had never given up, things just got in the way. Finding a job that suited me, getting adjusted to constant exhaustion _from_ that work, and honestly, losing motivation for a lot of my hobbies. But this is 2017 and it has started out well- I'm so motivated this year and will really try to update more regularly.**

**I want you guys to know, though, that I won't ever abandon these stories. I have read too many amazing half stories, myself, and I know the pain of that! I wouldn't do that to you guys! I will always get around to finishing them!**

**Again, thank you for everything- and keep the reviews and messages coming because they honestly mean so much. They got me out of my slump last year, so clearly they're important!**

**Without further ado...**

**The long awaited Chapter 33!**

**Phanty belongs to Leroux and Lloyd Weber.**

* * *

Erik

"As predictable as ever." Raoul smiled. Why should he not smile? This was exactly what he wanted. "I afford you the courtesy of two weeks and instead you go behind my back and attempt to _steal _her from me!?" He turned to Christine. "And _you! _I have treated you with nothing but kindness and you abuse my trust."

I looked at Christine who could not speak. She had shrunk away from me, perhaps hoping that it would affect Raoul's reaction. I hated that he could affect _us._

The Sûreté looked at him for guidance as to whether they should apprehend me, or wait for his command.

"Christine…" I spoke softly, not meeting her gaze. I couldn't look at her, not entirely. Just the thought of separation was already too painful to bear. As she had backed away, there was now nearly a foot of space between us, and I could feel the distance growing even though she had stopped moving entirely. From the corner of my eye I saw her look up at me. Raoul watched on, almost intrigued by our exchange- perhaps he knew that it would be important.

I produced her father's letter from my pocket and handed it to her.

"What is that?" Raoul enquired.

Ignoring him, she took it from me. Her eyes began to question me but I knew that part of her realised what I was doing.

"What…" She began.

"You will need this." I said, finally meeting her gaze.

"What? Why?! We will both need it…"

I smiled at her. She was so pure. She was fully aware of the situation now, I knew it, and yet she was still hoping that I had something else in mind; that somehow this was just part of a more elaborate plan that would have both of us free to live and to love.

I turned to Raoul.

"This is my decision." I offered stoically, holding my wrists out before me in submission. "I am yours. Now release her."

"_ERIK, NO!" _Christine cried, immediately throwing herself at me and holding me tightly.

"Christine, please…" _God, _how I wished to return the embrace.

"Get _away _from him, Christine!" Raoul finally spoke, signalling to his men who began to approach me. They approached with apprehension and that was warranted, but I was of no threat to them. Not tonight. The thought of returning to a cage filled me with a very real dread, but it was either Christine or myself. One cage or the other. I would not resist. My surrender was a choice.

"Be careful, men." One of the officers said to another. He eyed me. "Don't make this difficult." He warned.

I scoffed, a sarcastic smile playing on the corner of my mouth. I wondered if they would be able to contain me if I _chose _to make things difficult.

"I had no intention of doing so."

"Hands behind your head!" He yelled, ignoring me.

"Is that necessary?" I asked, throwing a scowl at the man who had spoken. Surely a surrender afforded me _some _dignity… perhaps not.

In response, the officer signalled to the surrounding men, and Christine was pulled away from me. The force used was not called for. It angered me I started toward her out of impulse.

"Don't you dare…" I began.

_Harm her…_

I was silenced mid-sentence as the butt of a rifle collided with my face, swiping me across the jaw.

"_NO!"_ Christine cried, attempting to push away from the man detaining her.

I fell to my hands and knees, momentarily dazed by the pain. My mouth filled with blood as I brought my hand to my stomach wound, which was now screaming from the movement.

"This is how you would have her treated!?" I spat at Raoul. Blood spilled down my chin as I spoke. I was approached by two officers and pushed to the concrete of the balcony floor.

"Erik, please! There must be another way!" Christine pleaded.

"There isn't." Raoul replied. "He has finally come to his senses."

"Be _quiet _Raoul!" She shot. "Erik, this isn't the answer. Why… why would you do this to me!?"

"I am doing this _for _you." I managed from beneath the man crushing my back with his knee as he handcuffed me.

_You have to get to the bottom of this._ I would have said, had the man on top of me not been pushing the air out of my lungs with his weight.

_Every minute you spend here could be time lost._

I thought I was going to be sick from the pain my stomach wound was causing me. I yelled as the weight on my back shifted. I wish I hadn't. I didn't want to further upset Christine but even I didn't have_ that_ much self-restraint.

"Stop!" She cried. "Get off him! He won't give you any trouble! He said he wouldn't!"

Christine was ignored by all except Raoul, who to my surprise, shot her an empathetic look.

Finally, just as I thought I was going to lose consciousness, the manacles were tightened around my wrists and I was pulled up. They were tighter than they needed to be. There was no room to move at all. I knew that I wasn't getting out of these.

"Please, Erik." Christine cried once more. It killed me to see her this way and to know I was the cause, but she needed to get to her father, or at the very least, _try. _I owed her that much.

The man holding her shook her slightly.

"Keep quiet, Mademoiselle!"

This enraged me. It was enough that the law had me at its disposal, Christine had done no wrong, and these men had no right to speak to her that way _or _to manhandle her.

"Don't you tell her what…"

I started toward her but was again silenced as the butt of the very same rifle was thrust into my stomach, not _intentionally_ hitting my wound but nonetheless rendering me paralysed.

_"__ERIK!" _Christine's voice pleaded.

A wave of agony rushed through me and I fell to the floor. I longed to hold my wound which I was sure was now bleeding, but my hands were immobile.

To my surprise, Raoul stepped forward and spoke.

"Monsieur!" He shot at the man who had delivered the blow. "I did not instruct…"

Another man cut in… or so I could hear. I was still on the floor trying to come to terms with the pain.

"It is no longer in your hands." He said.

"What? But I…"

"You delivered him to us. Correct. And we are appreciative. But now that he is in custody of the law, he is property of the government until proven innocent."

A few of the men snickered. I knew that I would be getting no such chance at proving my innocence; no such trial. And what if I did? I _did _commit the murder. _Was _I innocent? No. I was guilty. I just hoped that they wouldn't draw it out too long, and that Christine could find what she was looking for before anything happened.

The man continued. His words and tone of voice told me that he was in charge. Not only of his men, but of everyone in the room.

"And therefore, the means of containing said property are in the discretion of the law."

Raoul glanced at Christine, who was now weeping helplessly. Too lost even to scold him further for what he had done.

"But surely… surely that was not necessary?"

Why was Raoul protecting me?

"We will deem what is necessary." He said, his tone short.

"The man is injured. Surely it would not do to have him perish before the trial?"

"He shall not perish, Monsieur."

Raoul said nothing in response…

The conversation above me blurred in and out. Once more, I felt as though I was going to be sick, but I knew that I couldn't in front of Christine. What she was witnessing was bad enough.

I looked down and saw red. Quite literally. I was in fact bleeding from my wound again. Troublesome. As my eyes travelled back up to reality, I noticed the jacket I was wearing; the velvet lapels… that this was the very same jacket I had been wearing when I'd first revealed myself to Christine. I found it morbidly fitting that I was wearing it now- possibly the last time I would _ever _see her.

"Let's go." The same authoritarian voice spoke from above. He must have gestured to his men because momentarily I was pulled up from my place on the floor. I wasn't ready. Not at all. Pain swept through me again, followed by intense nausea. I had a high tolerance for pain, and I had never been physically sick from it, but anything was possible.

I looked at Christine. She met my gaze. Pain tainted her features as much as it tainted mine. Her gaze travelled down to my wound, now bleeding again.

"You… You're bleeding…" She muttered, looking up at me. "He is injured!" She cried. "You must be careful! He- He's badly injured… Oh God…" The last two words left her lips as a whimper, when she realised that what she was saying didn't matter. No one cared whether or not I was injured, they probably preferred it that way; less trouble- easier to manage. They couldn't care less whether I perished before my 'trial'. I daresay they planned to help me along.

"Out of the way, Miss." One of the men spoke gruffly, gesturing to Christine. He pushed me inside; into the bedroom, past several other men who simply stared. Perhaps they'd never seen a man in a mask before; perhaps each of them longed to remove it. I knew that it would only be a matter of time, in fact I was surprised that no one had yet reached for it.

"Erik…" Christine pleaded as I passed her. I glanced up at her, mouthing the words I longed to say.

_I love you._

Her face fell, as if those three words that hadn't even been spoken, had shattered her. She began to weep harder.

"Raoul, _please! Think about what you are about to do!"_

"Christine… you heard them…" He replied softly. "It's not in my control anymore."

_"__But it's your fault, isn't it!?"_

Yes, it was Raoul's doing- but he was not entirely to blame. I was being arrested because I had committed a crime. My first visit to a cage had been out of my hands- but not this. That first visit and the encounters that followed changed me. I vowed that it would never happen again, and every action I took since then has been a preventative measure… or at least that was how I had seen it.

But who had suffered because of that vow?

Me.

I had spent a life in darkness in more than just a physical sense and then Christine had shown me light…

I shot one last glance back at her before I was escorted from the room. It was heartbreaking. There was so much still left to say- so much left to _do, _to experience with this woman before I could truly say goodbye. I had told her I loved her- I'd had the chance to say that at least but I knew that even those words had hurt her. Either choice I made would have had me hurt Christine, and so I had to choose was _right _for her.

And this was right.

Her pained eyes met mine once more before she was lost from sight, and the door was shut behind me. I could still hear her despair as I was taken away from her. I was escorted down the dark, carpeted corridor- the firm grip on my upper arm did not loosen as we made our way out into the foyer. I glanced briefly at my surroundings, noting dismally that the grain of the marble of Raoul's staircase was not unlike the marble of the Garnier's. Of course, _I _had chosen a classy white marble- not really comparable to the dated cool grey of the de Chagny staircase…

As we made our way outside and the cool wind met us, habit forced me to take in my surroundings and instinct told me to assess them, and to run. Though, that would get me nowhere. I knew that. The manacles that now bound my wrists were requested. I had undertaken this willingly and I had done it for a noble purpose. The noblest purpose there is; for love. If nothing else in my life, I had committed one, final, selfless act and I was not about to redact it if it could hinder Christine.

Possibly sensing that part of me was itching to follow my natural instinct, the man holding me tightened his grip as he shoved me down the stairs and into the carriage waiting at the bottom.

"Get in…" He grumbled. A few of the officers crowded around me lest I decide that this was not such a grand idea, after all.

Yes, I knew that once inside the carriage, my escape options would be further limited if not eliminated entirely- and yet I did not fight. I stepped inside as any normal man would enter his carriage… if he were handcuffed and en route to prison…

Entering was of course difficult with a stomach wound and without the use of my hands to take the weight, but with a helpful shove from one of the gracious men behind me, I was inside. The door was immediately slammed shut behind me, followed by the dull clanging of keys and what sounded like the door being locked- then double checked. With a grimace, I sat up. My wound was aching, and so was my chest… the dread began to creep in.

Without Christine and caged once more. I leant to one side of the carriage in an attempt to peer out the window and up to Christine's balcony, but I saw nothing. Pressing my mask to the (cold) iron bars of the carriage window did not help. There was nothing, _no one _there. The drapes, ravished by the wind, danced about the open doors of the balcony; a balcony that now looked _so_ empty. I wondered what was now transpiring in that room above me. Was Raoul comforting her? Consoling her? Was she accepting that? Inviting it?

Perhaps I did not wish to know.

I looked away, positioning myself in the middle of carriage seat once more, knowing that if I continued, a familiar voice would creep into my thoughts; self-doubt.

_It was all for him._

_This was a plan to remove you from the picture and it worked._

_Christine and Raoul._

_Madame de Changy after all._

I knew that that voice would never truly be silenced, and that it would forever hurt Christine to know that I did not truly trust her judgement, nor her words. That I _cannot. _She claims to understand but after a while she would grow tired of convincing me and she would grow tired of my jealousy and insecurity, and possessive nature and she would leave. She would go running to le Vicomte's open arms after all. Perhaps it was better that she just stayed with Raoul. With that _boy. _

I could hear him; hear his pathetic mewling voice calling Christine's name. Perhaps I always _would. _

"Christine!" It called.

"Christine wait !"

It almost sounded real.

"Christine!"

"No, Raoul! Let me go!"

_Christine?!_

I looked up, leaning toward the window once more and peering out to see her bursting through the doors of Raoul's home and rushing down the stone steps toward me.

She was crying.

Raoul was in tow.

"Christine!" I exclaimed. My chest ached at the sight of her.

"Erik! Erik, please!"

It broke my heart to see her pleading, knowing that I had no power in what was happening, and yet pleading all the same.

"Christine…" I repeated, moving closer to the window. I longed to touch her, but my hands were behind my back and as soon as she approached the carriage she was caught by an officer, who gently held her at bay.

"Christine, stop!" Raoul yelled from further away. "You mustn't!"

"It is alright, Monsieur." The officer who was holding her began. "Just hold her until we depart."

I resented the way he spoke about her, as if she were an item of baggage. But I could not do a thing.

Raoul approached and took Christine, holding her close.

"Christine, it is alright." I said. "I will be alright. Find your father!"

The remaining officers sat atop the carriage. I heard the reins crack, and then we were moving.

"Erik, please…" Christine continued. I could see that the hopelessness of the situation had now set in for her, and it was painful to watch.

"Find your father!" I yelled as the distance between us grew further. Then, I turned away, facing the inside wall of the moving carriage once more. I didn't know when I would see Christine again, but she was on another journey now- an important one. I would yearn for her. I would worry for her. I would think on her every waking minute, and dream of her too, but staring, wishing, weeping… those would not help anyone- and they would only weaken me.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself.

I needed to be strong for whatever came next…

* * *

**Let me know what you think!**


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